


Endless Summer

by tfm



Series: Endless Summer [2]
Category: Critical Role (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, F/F, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-03
Updated: 2020-03-04
Packaged: 2020-10-06 12:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 47,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20507372
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tfm/pseuds/tfm
Summary: Six months ago, Beauregard Lionett almost died on the Bazzoxan Pass. It was only a motorcycle helmet, and the timely intervention of a mysterious stranger that prevented it.Present day, Yasha Nydoorin comes to visit Nicodranas for the summer, with her best friend Mollymauk Tealeaf. Their lives will change in ways they can't possibly have predicted.





	1. Chasing the Wind (Redux)

**Author's Note:**

> This follows on from Chasing the Wind. You don't really need to read Chasing the Wind to understand this, as the events are covered from Yasha's perspective in the first chapter of this story. This will be a series of self-contained one-shots detailing the events of the summer in which Yasha and Molly visit Nicodranas. I'm not gonna lie, there's gonna be a lot of fluff, with maybe a little bit of angst thrown in. Tags will be updated where necessary. Have fun.

1 – Chasing the Wind (Redux)

_Six months ago_

Yasha was sitting under an outcropping of rock, camera at the ready, when she saw the bike pass. From this vantage, she had a pretty good view of the road ahead, could see the twists and turns ahead.

The bike wasn’t going fast, by any means, but the downpour of rain was enough that the road was slick as hell.

_That’s not going to end well_ , Yasha thought. Before she’d even thought about it, she was putting the lens cap back on, and packing her camera away. The least she could do was follow at a safe distance, just to make sure nothing happened.

She was just swinging her leg back over her own bike, when she saw the other rider spin out halfway down the hill.

_Fuck_ .

Clipping her helmet on, Yasha fumbled with her keys; fingers wet with rain, it took several goes to get the bike started, and once she did, she almost spin out herself trying to turn around on the wet gravel.

Yasha had to go further than she’d expected to find the crash site, which wasn’t a good sign. It meant that there’d been some skidding, and some rolling, neither of which boded well for the survival of the rider.

Finally, though, she came across the aftermath, a little way off the road.

It didn’t look great.

Okay, that was an understatement. It looked pretty fucking bad.

Yasha had been a field medic in the Xhorhasian Army, meaning she’d seen a lot of injuries in her life. Of course, most of the injuries she’d seen had involved burns, and gunshots, and missing limbs. This was different, but no less worrying.

From the size and shape of the body, Yasha assumed it was a woman. She pulled the neck of the motorcycle leathers away to check the pulse, and was surprised to find that there was one. It was very faint, but it was there.

Her eyes fluttered for a moment, but did not open, which was probably for the best. 

The bike was pretty much toast – a wreck of twisted metal – and Yasha was utterly astonished that the woman wasn’t dead. The awkward angle of both her legs suggested that they were both broken, and pretty bad breaks, too. Yasha though she could see a flash of bone, but it was hard to tell, with the wind and the rain. Visibility was so poor, she was astonished that anyone would even consider tackling the Bazzoxan Pass in this weather.

Yasha spent enough time out in the middle of nowhere taking pictures of storms that she’d paid for the best phone coverage she could get. It wasn’t the first time she’d had to go ahead and rescue some wayward soul.

The first one had been Molly.

This person – well, she definitely wasn’t from Xhorhas. Her skin was dark, but it wasn’t that inky blue-black that the Drow had. It was a soft, rich brown. She might have been from Marquet, or Vasselheim, or even the Empire.

At the very least, the woman had been smart enough to wear a full helmet; Yasha didn’t want to risk removing it, in case there was spinal damage. In any case, the face-shield was providing cover from the rain, and it had probably saved her from a caved in skull. The protective gear (also a good move) seemed to have prevented most of the road rash, and the backpack on the woman’s back had cushioned a small amount of the impact.

The bike, though, was crushing her.

Both she and the bike had landed awkwardly, and from what Yasha could tell, both of the woman’s legs and part of her torso were trapped beneath it, taking the full force of its weight. Summoning a strength she wasn’t even sure she had, Yasha squatted down and levered the bike to the side.

It was a couple of hundred kilos, easily, but with the adrenaline pumping through her system, it might as well have weighed nothing. She barely noticed the way the bike’s exhaust pipe burned against her skin.

The woman gave a pained gasp that sounded horribly like a death rattle. In lifting the bike, Yasha knew there was now a risk of the woman bleeding out from the lacerations across her body.

Five minutes later, Yasha hung up the phone, after giving the operator a rundown of the situation, and exact GPS coordinates.

Help was on the way, but in her experience (especially in this weather), it’d probably be a while before it got there. The good news was, the storm proper had mostly passed, and the rain was starting to lessen.

The woman’s breathing was steady, and her pulse was stable, if a little slow for Yasha’s liking. The longer it was before help arrived, the more likely it was that she wasn’t going to make it. Yasha didn’t even want to attempt to set the bones; it looked bad enough that it would probably need surgery. At the moment, the most she could do was keep the bleeding under control, and hope – pray – that help wasn’t too far off.

‘Don’t die,’ she muttered, pressing a towel against the wounds. Already, the towel was soaked with rain and blood. Yasha had an instant flashback to a similar scene, in the mountains outside of Asarius, with a different someone. ‘Please don’t die. Not again.’

Another twenty minutes after that, Yasha heard the whirring of helicopter blades. She didn’t quite have time to think about how impressive that was, rushing to her bike to grab the flares.

The next few hours were a blur, and somehow, Yasha found herself riding in the back of a helicopter with a complete stranger. 

At one point, maybe she’d get the chance to come back and pick her bike up.

...

In a chair in the hall of a Xhorhasian hospital, Yasha Nydoorin dozed. She’d been running on empty even before the helicopter ride to Rosohna, and, now that the adrenaline had faded, there wasn’t a whole lot left in the tank.

The other things Yasha had realized, once it had faded, was the now blistering burns across her forearm from where she’d lifted the bike. One of the nurses had tried insisting on taking a look, but Yasha had brushed him off. She’d gotten far worse exhaust burns in her time (though this was the first time she’d gotten one on the arm).

It had been almost twelve hours since she’d gotten in a helicopter with a complete stranger who wasn’t too far from death. The stranger had been in emergency surgery for about eleven of those hours, where Yasha assumed they would set her legs, and deal with any other injuries.

Yasha must have fallen asleep properly, then, because the next thing she knew, she was being gently nudged awake by someone in light blue hospital scrubs. Yasha couldn’t quite interpret the look on their face. 

‘She’s out of surgery, if you’d like to see her,’ the man said. Yasha frowned. It seemed a little early for that.

It wasn’t until later she realized that things had still been so volatile, that they’d wanted to give her the opportunity to say goodbye. More realistically, she would be saying...well, hello.

Yasha was too tired to explain that she didn’t even know the woman, and dutifully followed the man – the doctor – down two hallways, and into a small, private room.

The first thing Yasha noticed was that there seemed to be a lot of machines in the room. A ventilator, a patient monitor, an anesthesia machine, and a few others that Yasha didn’t quite recognize.

The second thing she noticed was the name on the board at the bottom of the bed.

It said “Beauregard Lionett,” and Yasha raised half an eyebrow. She had always thought that Beauregard was supposed to be a male name. Next to the name, in brackets were the letters “EMP”. Yasha supposed that might have meant Empire.

Without the helmet, without the protective gear, and with a multitude of bandages, Beauregard looked so small. Much, much smaller than Yasha. Definitely smaller than Mollymauk. ‘Are you the next of kin?’ the doctor asked, and it was immediately evident to Yasha that her circumstances did not make it onto the chart.

‘I don’t know her,’ Yasha said, apologetically. There was a pause. She hated to leave someone alone in this condition, especially if they’re weren’t from around here. She hadn’t looked in the backpack for any ID., figuring that that would have been an invasion of privacy. ‘I’m just the one that found her.’

He gave her a strange sort of look, as though not many people would accompany a complete stranger to the hospital by helicopter. Not many people  _would_ , Yasha reasoned. But it seemed rude to just leave her here alone. If she died – and it was entirely possible that she would die – Yasha didn’t want her to be alone. Yasha had been alone in the darkest time of her life – during a time she was so sure she was going to die – and she didn’t want that for anyone else.

Beauregard didn’t die.

She didn’t exactly look good; the doctors had induced a coma, Yasha gathered because of some swelling in the brain. Even with the ventilator, her breaths were short, and barely seemed to rise the chest.

After another eight hours or so, Yasha went home. On leaving the hospital, she saw the twelve or so missed calls from Mollymauk, and the three or four frantic voicemails.

‘Where the fuck have you been?’ he demanded, when Yasha walked in the door.

Yasha frowned. Her brain was too tired to go through the exact reason why she had been uncontactable. All she really wanted to do was close her eyes and sleep for the next week and a half. The hospital had her number, if anything changed (even though she still wasn’t entirely sure why she gave it to them). ‘Some stuff came up,’ she told Molly, who, predictably, was not swayed by this line of argument.

‘You were gone for twenty-four hours. I thought you were dead!’

‘I’ve been gone for way longer than that before!’

‘And I thought you were dead then, too!’ There was a sad sort of strain in Molly’s voice. Yasha forgot sometimes, that he still technically didn’t really have a whole lot of experience with people leaving him, or that much life experience at all.

He had taken to things with gusto, though, and spent a great deal of his time drinking, partying, and being generally hedonistic. Some days, Yasha envied his lackadaisical lifestyle. 

Yasha paused. Considered her words. ‘I may be gone for a bit of the next few weeks.’ She didn’t want to tell him why, because she knew if she started the story with “there’s a woman in a coma,” then he would get so typically “Molly” about the whole situation. ‘But I’ll try to stay in contact.’

The main thing was, Yasha didn’t want the woman – Beauregard – to be alone. Being alone wasn’t too bad if you wanted it, but if it was forced upon you...

The good news was,  she didn’t stay alone for long. Two days after the accident, an electric blue tiefling came rushing into the room, wheeling a bright pink suitcase behind her. She looked all of a dither, and gasped at the sight of Beauregard lying in the bed, covered in bandages, with both legs elevated. 

‘Oh, Beau!’

Yasha couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. She’d been referring to the woman as Beauregard in her head. It didn’t even occur to her to think there might have been a nickname. She tensed slightly, watching as the tiefling realized that there was someone else in the room.

She gave a little gasp. ‘Beau didn’t tell me she made a  _friend_ .’ There was a strange inflection on the word “friend,” as though they were talking bout something else altogether.

‘I didn’t...’ Yasha started. ‘I don’t…’ She paused. Frowned. She hadn’t anticipated this conversation, and had not planned for it. ‘I, uh...I only met...well, not met. I saw her crash – I called the paramedics.’ Jester’s attitude changed entirely, from shrewd amusement, to relief and gratefulness.

‘You saved her life? Oh, thank-you so much!’ She ran forward, and wrapped Yasha in a tight hug. ‘She’s my best friend, I don’t know what I’d do if she died.’

Yasha hesitated. She wasn’t one for all the complicated stuff that doctors had to do, but she knew enough that Beauregard –  _Beau –_ wasn’t even close to being out of the woods. It was another twelve days before they pulled her from the medically induced coma, and another three days after that before she woke up. Half her body was in a cast, but she seemed cognizant enough.

Cognizant enough to say thank-you to Yasha, and to give a shy sort of grin that was very endearing.

Now that Jester was here, Yasha could leave. She should leave, for that matter. Molly kept asking where she was going everyday, and for some reason, Yasha found herself continuing to lie to him.

‘Just work stuff,’ she told him, which was a lie, and both of them knew it. Yasha could run the website from anywhere she had a laptop (and had done a few quick editing sessions in the hospital cafeteria, using shitty wi-fi and drinking shitty coffee). 

She knew he would be insufferable – even more insufferable, that was – if she told him the truth. That she’d been sitting by this woman’s side for two weeks, and it’d be weird if she stopped going now.

A few days in, Yasha made the journey back to the Bazzoxan Pass to pick up her bike, which was an adventure and a half in itself. It occurred to her, three weeks after the fact, that she probably could have just asked the police to have it towed.

When she returned to the hospital, she brought flowers. She wasn’t even sure why she did it. In fact, she wasn’t even sure why she kept going, only...well, she was kind of intrigued by this...insane woman who had flown half-way across the world to ride a dangerous motorcycle route in the middle of a storm.

The woman who was – to the consternation of her best friend – already talking about getting another bike, and trying again when the weather was a little better.

‘Come _on_, Jester,’ Beau said, needlingly. ‘I’m not dead, am I?’

‘No, you’re not,’ Jester said, her tone one of constrained anger. ‘You just have two broken legs, and a broken hip, and a broken collarbone—’

‘Yeah, and think about how careful I’m gonna be next time, just so it doesn’t happen again.’ Beau noticed Yasha standing in the doorway, and shot her a grin and a wink. ‘Besides,’ Beau continued, still looking at Yasha. ‘Apparently I’ve got a guardian angel, now.’A strange feeling rose in Yasha’s stomach, a feeling that she’d not had since Zuala was alive.

Not that Beau was anything like Zuala. In fact, she was as far different from Zuala as it was possible to be. Whereas Beau was small and sort of nuggety, Zuala had been tall, and well-built in a different sort of way. Beau’s voice was rough and croaky (though that was partly, Yasha knew, the result of the different tubes they kept sticking down it) while Zuala’s had been like a choir of angels.

It was possible, Yasha knew, that she was romanticizing her memory. In fact, her therapist had told her quite explicitly that she was romanticizing her memory. Yasha stopped going to therapy not long after that point.

Perhaps it was the drugs, but Beau was remarkably...well, flirty.

‘Oh, no, she’s like that when she’s not on drugs, too,’ Jester said, shrugging, when Yasha commented. ‘With like…any super hot woman she meets.’ She added, in an undertone (even though Beau was fast asleep), ‘She thinks _you’re_ super hot, though_._’ There was a pause. ‘Don’t tell her I told you that.’

Yasha didn’t quite know how to respond to that. Not that people hadn’t found her attractive before. It just wasn’t often that she returned the affection. 

Somehow, though...somehow, whatever it was that she felt brought her back here, day after day, week after week. Ever so slowly, Beau healed (even if the slowness brought out no small amount of frustration in the other woman). By the time Quen’pillar started, they had released her from hospital, and she and Jester stayed at a hotel, going back in three times a week for physical therapy.

Molly, for his part, was unceasingly curious about where Yasha kept wandering off to. He’d even tried to follow her once, stopping when she took him on a wild goose chase through the supermarket, to the little restaurant that made the rat sandwich that she liked, before stopping at the gym for an hour and a half.

Yasha had never gone to so much effort to go somewhere for dinner, but somehow, visiting Jester and Beau had become her favorite part of the week.

Little by little, she found herself falling. Or rather, realized that she had already fallen, and maybe sort of fell a little bit further. One night, after they’d drunk quite a bit, and smoked some stuff that Beau had gotten from...from somewhere, Yasha found herself feeling irrevocably honest.

‘I don’t want you to leave.’ And it was maybe only a little bit because Beau reminded her of Zuala. A strange sort of look overcame Beau.

‘I…I wish I could stay,’ she said, and in that moment, Yasha made a decision. She leaned over, and kissed Beau on the lips.

Yasha could have sworn that she heard a soft sort of cheer coming from the other couch, where Jester was supposedly fast asleep.

Beau pressed her head against Yasha’s. ‘I’ll come back,’ she said. ‘Once I’ve got a new bike, I’ll come back and do the Pass properly.

‘I suppose I should do it with you,’ Yasha murmured. ‘Just in case.’ She pulled Beau in towards her, resting her head on the other woman’s shoulder.

They spent the night like that, wrapped in each others’ embrace. 

A week later, Beau and Jester were gone.


	2. The One Where Molly Finds Out

2 –  The One Where Molly Finds Out

_Six Weeks Ago_

It had been nearly five months since Yasha had dropped everything to go and save a woman’s life,  and admittedly, that hadn’t caused as many changes as she had imagined it would.

Beau had, after all, gone back to Nicodranas, which meant that they didn’t go on dates, or buy each other flowers, or any of the sorts of things that normal couples did. Yasha had tried to buy flowers once, only for the bank to freeze her credit card, thinking that it was a suspicious transaction.

They relied mostly, then, on voice chat three or four times a week. Xhorhasian internet was kind of terrible, so video wasn’t always an option. It made things difficult, to the point where the relationship, for lack of a better word, had stagnated slightly. If they were going to move forward at all, then it wasn’t going to happen half a world apart.

The catalyst Yasha was looking for came late on Yulisen evening. She knew that Beau was working late, and usually went straight to bed on those nights, so she was surprised when her phone popped up with a message that read, “Jester Lavorre Calling.”

Yasha frowned.

She had, of course, spoken to the tiefling in the time since they had left Xhorhas, but usually it was at the tail end of a call with Beau (no pun intended). It was rare (but not unheard of) that either of them would take the initiative to call just to chat.

‘Jester,’ she said, as she answered the call. ‘Is everything okay?’

‘Yasha!’ Jester’s voice was a loud sort of whisper. ‘How are you?’ 

‘I’m fine,’ Yasha said, in her normal tone of voice. ‘Why are we whispering?’

‘Shhh!’ Jester said. ‘I don’t want Beau to hear us.’

‘Okay...’ Yasha decided to give Jester the benefit of the doubt. Then, curiousity got the better of her. ‘Isn’t Beau at work?’

‘Yes, but you know, people can tell when you’re talking about them, even when they’re really far away.’ Yasha was not sure how to respond to that, so she didn’t.

‘It’s her birthday in a couple of months,’ Jester continued. ‘She’s turning twenty-five.’ Yasha frowned. She’d known, of course, that Beau was younger than her. She just hadn’t realized how _much _younger. Twenty-five was almost seven years ago for Yasha, and she had grown up considerably since then.

‘And, I mean, I know it’s a long way, but like…I think she would really like it if you could be here for her birthday.’ There was the unspoken truth there, that both of them knew; that ever since the accident, Beau _hadn’t_ been coping well with her suddenly decreased mobility, that she was increasingly listless and despondent. Sometimes, when Yasha called, Beau would barely speak a dozen words, which given Yasha’s own limited verbosity, made for a very quiet conversation. Even now, fiveish months later, Beau was still going through physical therapy.

Yasha’s frown deepened. It  _was_ a long way. And she’d never technically been out of Xhorhas before. She had a passport, but she’d never actually used it to go anywhere.  She’d done a bit of traveling while in the military, but most of the time she hadn’t known where she was dropped off,  and hadn’t really asked .  Not to mention ...well, she didn’t want to admit it, but she didn’t want to leave Molly behind. He had become something like a brother to her, and even after two years, relied on her a little bit to find his way in the world. They both relied on each other.

So, she told Jester that she would think about it, and set about deciding whether or not it could work.

Flights were not too expensive. Not cheap, certainly, but the website, and her pension, and a whole variety of other kinds of passive income meant that she wasn’t hurting for money. Visas...not easy to get, but not impossible, either. The problem, she knew, would be Molly. Molly, who had appeared out of thin air two years ago, befuddling even the most seasoned of Xhorhasian detectives. It didn’t bother him in the slightest, not knowing anything, but it meant that he didn’t have a birth certificate, or a drivers license, or any of the documentation that normal people had.

‘How would you feel about taking a holiday?’ she asked Molly, later that evening. Molly was lounging in an armchair, sketching out a design in his notebook. Molly ran a moderately successful Etsy shop that sold fetish gear, and was very proud of that fact.

‘Sure,’ he said, immediately, not looking up. ‘I’ve always wanted to go to the City of Beasts.’

There was a slight pause. ‘I was thinking of somewhere a little further afield,’ Yasha admitted. ‘Like Nicodranas.’

_That _ caused a reaction. Molly put his pencil and sketchbook aside, and looked up, staring. ‘ _Nicodranas_ ?’ he said, incredulous. ‘That’s pretty fucking far afield, Yash. What’s so interesting about Nicodranas?’

Yasha faltered. She hadn’t thought far ahead enough to think of an excuse as to why she wanted to go to Nicodranas. More to the point, she hadn’t quite planned out the conversation to explain the actual truth of why she wanted to go to Nicodranas. It would hardly to for them to show up at the airport halfway across the world, and spring it on him there.

It  _would_ be funny, though.

Not to mention the fact that it would be a suitable revenge for all the times that Molly had introduced her to someone new, only for them to be gone within the month. He didn’t particularly have a long attention span when it came to committed relationships.

‘I want to see the ocean,’ she said, very fast, without stopping. Judging by the look on Molly’s face, he didn’t believe a word of it. Thankfully, though, for once in his life, he didn’t press the matter, but said that he would think about it. Three days later, Yasha had planned out exactly how she was going to tell him.

‘I may have...not been entirely honest about my reasons for wanting to go to Nicodranas,’ Yasha admitted over breakfast. Molly looked entirely unsurprised.

‘You mean that excuse about wanting to see the ocean was a _lie_?’ he asked, putting on an expression of mock horror. Yasha considered flinging scrambled eggs at him, but settled on a blank stare. Nothing frustrated Molly more than thinking that one of his jokes didn’t land.

‘Well, not entirely.’ She _did_ want to see the ocean. But it wasn’t as though there wasn’t ocean in Xhorhas. It was much colder ocean, and there weren’t nearly as many brightly colored umbrellas as in the pictures that Jester had sent her, or as many people in bikinis and board shorts. ‘I am...seeing someone,’ she continued. ‘They live in Nicodranas.’

Seeing was perhaps the wrong word, considering how often they’d had to rely on voice chat.

Molly raised an eyebrow. He didn’t need to mention that she ha d n’t “seen”  _anyone_ in all the time that they’d known each other. For that matter, she hadn’t seen anyone since Zuala, and that was almost ten years ago.

‘Does she have a magic vagina?’ he asked, a little incredulous. ‘Since when do you date?’

Yasha shrugged. ‘ It’s a long story.  Let me show you a picture,’ she said, and pulled out her phone. There were a few photos that Beau had sent in Yasha’s gallery that she didn’t want to show him, so instead, she brought up Beau’s Facebook page.

Molly stared at  the profile picture for a moment.  There was a beat of silence.

‘Why are you dating someone that looks like they just stepped off the cover of _Fuckboi _magazine?’

Yasha considered the question, deciding it wasn’t an entirely unfair comparison. In the picture, Beau was wearing a flip flops, a bright blue sports bra, and shorts pulled down far enough to show the V-shape of her  very muscled  abdomen. She was leaning up against a lime green enduro bike that Yasha recognized as the bike that had been totaled on the Bazzoxan Pass. There was a smirk on Beau’s face,  and sunglasses perched precariously on her nose.

It was an old picture.

Yasha knew, for one thing, that after returning to Nicodranas, Beau was still walking with a cane, which frustrated the hell out of her. She bemoaned incessantly to Yasha about how long it was taking to heal properly, and how she wished she could just start training properly again.  Beau, she’d learned, was an amateur MMA fighter, something that had somehow never come up the entire time she’d been in Xhorhas.  The bike had been taking to a wreckers somewhere in Xhorhas, and been crushed into a cube. But none of that had anything to do with the question that Molly had asked.

Finally, she said, ‘She’s...not as much of a douchebag as the picture makes her look.’

‘Implying that she is a little bit of a douchebag? Where exactly did you meet this woman, Yash? Doing kegstands at a hostel party?’

Yasha paused. She had sort of maybe forgotten to tell Molly about the time she’d saved a woman’s life while out chasing a storm.

‘Do you remember that really big storm we had a while back?’ she asked, as though he’d maybe forgotten.

‘The one where you didn’t come back for twenty-four hours, didn’t pick up any of my calls, and refused to tell me where you’d been?’ There was maybe a hint of annoyance in his voice. ‘Yeah, Yash, I remember.’

‘Well, she crashed her bike in the storm, and I...sort of saved her life.’ Yasha scratched her ear, looking in the opposite direction to avoid Molly’s (still incredulous) gaze.

There was a pause. ‘You met your girlfriend when she was bleeding out in the rain? A little bit of a cliché, no?’

‘Well,’ Yasha said, reasonably. ‘Technically, I met her two weeks later, when she finally woke up from the coma.’

‘She was in a _coma?_’ Molly said, and his tone of voice (and the wild grin) told her that he was finding this wildly entertaining. And was, as she’d known he would, being completely insufferable about it. ‘That’s a much better cliché! Let me guess, she was so grateful, she took you into an alleyway and fucked you senseless?’

Yasha was so used to Molly’s...Molly that she ignored him. 

‘No?’ he said. ‘Then I guess you took her into your arms, and carried her over the threshold into a candlelit room, bed covered in flowers...’

‘We haven’t, uh...’ Yasha started, and then remembered that she was talking to Molly, who considered anything less than fucking on the first date prudish. ‘She was still healing when she left.’

‘So, recap,’ Molly said. ‘You saved this girl’s life, fell in love with her over a hospital bed, didn’t even fuck her, and now you’re flying halfway across the world to go and visit?’

Yasha paused. It did sound a little ridiculous when you put it like that. ‘ Yes.’

‘Is she at least sending you nudes?’

Yasha gripped her phone a little tighter, and then put it back into her pocket hastily. Molly grinned. ‘Well that’s something.’ His grin didn’t take long to morph into a frown. ‘Seems a little much, though, flying across the world to go and visit, doesn’t it? What if she dumps you as soon as you get there?’ There was a small part of Yasha that was afraid that was going to be the case, and a just as small part of her that wondered if she might be the one that did the dumping.  Maintaining a long distance relationship wasn’t easy. In any case, she knew if things were going to progress in any way at all, it had to be in Nicodranas.

‘Do you want to come, or not?’

Molly looked at her, seriously. ‘Yasha,’ he said, putting his bright purple hands on his thighs. ‘I would love nothing more than to come to Nicodranas with you and meet your trashbag long-distance girlfriend.’


	3. Arrival

3 – Arrival

_Present Day_

The  day they were due to fly to  Nicodranas came far sooner than Yasha was expecting; at first, lulling harmlessly in the future, and then suddenly,  she was doing a last minute repack of her bags.

The tickets had been easy enough to get, but i t had been a task and a half trying to get a visa; it had taken a printout of her bank accounts, a letter of recommendation from Jester’s mother, and two references from respected parties in Xhorhas before it had been granted.

It had been even harder for Molly, who they discovered very quickly did not even have a Passport, because he technically hadn’t really existed as a person until two years ago. It had taken several painstaking days of back and forth arguing with officials to get the affidavits required to prove he was a real person that existed, and hadn’t materialized out of thin air (which wasn’t actually all that far off from what had happened).

It had taken no small number of meetings with both the Xhorhasian government (thankfully, Yasha still had a few friends that could help them out) and Nicodranian Immigration to get him a passport, and subsequently a visa.

‘This better be worth it,’ Molly grumbled, as they boarded their plane. He had a neck pillow slung around his neck, that he had custom made to fit his horns. It was only a six hour flight – Yasha had spent much longer periods of time than that cooped up in the back of cargo planes - but Molly had brought half a dozen things to keep himself occupied during the flight. He had stopped short of bringing the dildo sketchbook, after Yasha reminded him that there would, in fact, be other people on the flight. That, she knew, was in his checked luggage, along with half a dozen prototypes.

They were only going for a month, but neither of them had the luxury of being able to stop working. Luckily, they both had work they could do from anywhere in the world. Yasha’s camera was packed carefully in its case, and she had opted to take it with her in the cabin, rather than risk it out of her sight. Jester had told her that, being on the coast, Nicodranas got some spectacular summer storms.

It was supposed to be a surprise, but apparently Jester had been unable to keep it, because after they passed through Customs  eight or so hours later , Yasha found both Jester and Beau waiting,  Jester holding a sign that read “The World’s Sexiest Xhorhasian.”

Yasha frowned.

Here, in person, she could see the little details that didn’t quite cross over on a phone or computer screen. In addition to the bruises, Beau had dark bags under both of her eyes, and there was a sort of pinched look to her skin. Her muscles were a little more filled in, but her whole body was hunched over, as though she was trying to diminish herself. Her right hand gripped a cane that had been embellished (by Jester, no doubt) with hundreds of pictures of...(Yasha squinted, just to make sure) penises.

Still, the smile on Beau’s face was both wide, and genuine, and Yasha made a mental note to thank Jester for dragging her here. It was clear in an instant that in spite of her reassurances, Beau was Not Doing Okay.

They shared a long, and maybe only a little bit awkward kiss. ‘Hi,’ Beau breathed.

‘Hi.’ Yasha smiled.‘What happened?’ She let her hand barely stroke Beau’s cheek. There was a dark, heavy bruise just beneath her eye.

‘Bad fight,’ Beau said, with a shrug. The smile faded.

Yasha’s frown deepened. ‘I didn’t think Dairon wanted you fighting yet.’ She looked down towards the cane, which Beau gripped even tighter.

‘She doesn’t. I had to organize these myself.’ There was a pause. ‘For which Dairon has already raked me over the coals, and I’ve promised not to do it again, yadda, yadda, yadda.’ She had clearly expected a reprimand. Instead, Yasha rubbed her thumb against Beau’s jaw.

‘It’s good to see you,’ Yasha said. Beau grinned once more.

‘It’s good to see you, too.’

Molly cleared his throat expectantly, neck pillow still slung around his neck. He hadn’t had a particularly comfortable flight, the horns making it difficult to get settled even with the pillow.

‘Oh, yes,’ Yasha said, quickly. ‘This is Mollymauk, he’s my, uh...’ She paused. Hesitated. There wasn’t really a word for it in Common, a mix between a brother and a best friend. ‘Best friend,’ she settled on, a label that Molly seemed satisfied with. ‘You can call him Molly.’

‘Charmed.’ Molly held out a hand, which Jester took and kissed immediately. ‘I see you’ve been waiting for me.’ He gestured towards the sign she was holding. They seemed to click in a “two tieflings against the world” sort of way. Beau, however, looked immediately wary. ‘

‘Nice to meet you,’ she said, slowly, and shook Molly’s hand. Yasha didn’t exactly blame her. She hadn’t really mentioned Molly to Beau until a few weeks previously, so as not to spring him on her the moment they arrived in Nicodranas.

Molly, for his part, looked just as suspicious, as though every thought he’d had about Yasha’s mysterious girlfriend was being confirmed. Admittedly, Beau  _was_ wearing a tank top that read “Tits Out for the Traveler,” and her jeans were strategically ripped in various places. Now that Yasha was close enough to notice, there was also a tattoo, barely covered by the strap of the top. Though most of it was out of sight, Yasha was sure she could see the feathers of a wing. She let her fingers sweep over it, half-expecting the texture of the skin to be different. 

‘Is this new?’ Beau nodded, a little proudly. ‘Jester did it,’ she said, gesturing to the tiefling.

‘I’m not very good yet,’ Jester admitted. In a stage whisper, she added, ‘I’m still an apprentice. But Orly was booked out.’

‘Don’t sell yourself short, Jes, it looks great,’ Beau told the tiefling, clapping a hand on her shoulder.

‘Could you give me a tattoo?’ Molly asked, suddenly. There was barely an inch of Molly that _wasn’t_ covered in tattoos, so Yasha had no idea where he was going to put it. Jester beamed.

‘Of course,’ she said. ‘Do you like dicks?’

Beau looked at her, aghast. Molly, of course, was unperturbed.

‘My dear, I _revere_ dicks,’ he said. ‘I am an equal opportunities hornbag. I think you and I will get on spectacularly. In fact, I think there’re some things I could use your, ah...input on.’

‘Shall we get moving?’ Beau said, a little forcefully, cutting what was threatening to be a long conversation about something Yasha had no interest in short. ‘I don’t want to stay parked for more than half an hour, otherwise it’s five gold.’

‘I need a SIM card,’ Yasha said, doubtfully, staring at the dozens of kiosks that surrounded them, promising the best deals on data and long-distance calling.

‘Not here.’ Beau sounded dismissive. ‘They’ll rort you. I’ll take you to a place in town.’ Yasha frowned. She wasn’t familiar with this word, “rort.”

‘They’ll cheat you,’ Jester said, helpfully. Yasha opened her mouth in an “O” of understanding. The tiefling led the way out of the airport, whereupon Yasha felt the immediate rush of warm air hit her.

It didn’t get particularly hot in Rosohna, but the winters were biting cold. Jester had prepared her for this, but even still Yasha was fairly certain that she would need to stock up on summer clothes.

By the time they reached the car, Yasha was dripping in sweat. Molly stared.

‘Is this thing going to fall apart on the highway?’ he asked, a little brashly.

‘Fuck you, Mollymauk,’ Beau said, though Yasha had to admit, she was not entirely convinced. The car looked at least as old as Beau was, and one of the doors had been replaced with one that was completely the wrong color. It took several tries to get the trunk open, and the whole car seemed to shudder when Beau loaded the suitcases in. ‘She doesn’t look like much, but she’s in good nic.’ 

True to Beau’s word, the car started on the first turn of the key, and didn’t shudder once as Beau reversed out of the parking garage at fifteen miles an hour.

Yasha was not familiar with the road rules in Nicodranas, but she imagined that Beau seemed to be skirting very close to the edge of them. Not in a dangerous way; it was more of a...practiced hooliganism. She supposed that without a bike, there were limited methods of going fast.  Even her legs didn’t seem to be giving her much of a problem, as she accelerated, braked, and changed gears with no apparent pain.

It was a surprisingly short amount of time later that they pulled up outside of a small, weatherboard house. It had been painted a violent, eye-bleeding shade of pink, which Yasha assumed was Jester’s idea.

Y asha knew (or had pieced together) that Jester’s mother paid for the  house , and that Beau paid Jester’s mother. Or at least, she tried to. Jester’s mother refused to take any money that Beau gave her, and after a while, Beau had given up.

The inside was just as bright as the outside, only every single wall was covered in some kind of mural. The one in the front hallway was ocean-themed, with waves, and sand, and multi-colored glass pebbles.

‘The guy she likes took her sailing _one_ time,’ Beau said, grinning. ‘Now we’ve got fucking a fucking boat mural in the kitchen.’

‘Oh, come _on_, Beau,’ Jester said. ‘I _told _you he kissed me that one time, so we’re practically dating now.’

‘Uh huh.’ Beau shared a grin with Yasha. ‘How many dates have you been on?’

‘None, but I’m _sure_ Fjord will ask me soon.’ Jester pouted, and changed the subject. ‘Come on, Yasha, Molly, let me show you to the spare room.’

Yasha hesitated, and inadvertently looked across at Beau.

‘Uh,’ Beau said. ‘You can sleep with me, if you want, but like...only if you want, don’t feel like you have to...’

‘Where do you want me to sleep?’

Beau had a “deer in the headlights” sort of look at the question. Yasha decided to spare her.

‘I can sleep in the spare room for now,’ she said. ‘And if, we decide otherwise, we can progress from there.’ A look of relief washed over Beau’s face. It was for the best, Yasha thought. She hadn’t shared a bed with anyone in close to ten years, save for the nights where she and Molly fell asleep together after talking the hours away.

Yasha and Molly followed Jester to the spare room. The mural in there was of a lighthouse – one that Yasha could have sworn she’d seen up on the cliffside on the way into town. ‘That’s the Mother’s Lighthouse,’ Jester told her. ‘It used to be a temple to the Wildmother, but no-one’s looked after it in years.’ Yasha ran a hand across the beautiful dappled grays of the eroded stone. Jester was very talented. ‘We can take you there later, when we see the beach, but you should have a nap first.

Food and nap was the agreed upon course of action. Or, nap and food; even though the flight hadn’t been particularly long, flying always made Yasha exhausted. She slept for an hour or so, before forcing herself to get up. She’d never be able to sleep that night, if she stayed asleep now.

Beau and Jester were both fast asleep, which Yasha actually found kind of funny. Beau hadn’t even bothered to change out of her jeans, and was face down on the bed, sprawled out in a sort of spread-eagle pose.

Molly was in the kitchen.

Yasha stood at the door, a little hesitant. She wasn’t sure why she valued Molly’s opinion on the matter so much. After all, he had never asked her what _she _thought of his...partners seemed like the wrong word. Conquests seemed a little disrespectful. Romantic liaisons, perhaps. Still, Molly didn’t even wait to be asked.

‘She is a complete and utter trashbag,’ Molly said, conversationally, as he munched down on what Yasha could have sworn was an unmicrowaved Hot Pocket, tail swishing from side to side. ‘I don’t know whether I love her or hate her.’

‘She’s not that bad,’ Yasha said. She felt like she was having to defend Beau to Molly more and more.

‘Yash, you’re way too good for someone that wears crop tops unironically.’

‘_You _wear crop tops unironically,’ Yasha pointed out.

‘Yeah, and you’re too good for me, what’s your point?’ Molly finished the Hot Pocket before getting started on a bag of Fritos. Jester had told them to help themselves, but in any case, Yasha made a mental note that they would go grocery shopping later.

‘You’re…layered,’ Yasha said, finally. ‘Beau’s layered. She’s a very sweet person, and maybe please don’t antagonize her every five seconds.’

Molly sighed. ‘For you, Yash, anything. Just...’ He hesitated. He stood, put down the bag of Fritos, and pulled Yasha into a hug.

‘Be careful, okay. I don’t want to see you getting hurt.’


	4. The Beach

4 – The Beach

At around four o’clock, everyone was awake, and Yasha and Molly were both ready to see Nicodranas.

Or, rather, see the beach, because Jester had packed a picnic, and insisted that they go there first. After all, there would be weeks in which to see the rest of the town.

It was hot.

Nowhere in Xhorhas got this hot, though Yasha was accustomed enough to the weather that she wore summer clothes even when normal people would be freezing. She dressed in a purple tank top, and denim shorts.

‘Did you bring flip-flops?’ Jester asked. Yasha had brought flip-flops. She had dutifully gone over the list that Jester had given her, and purchased the things that she didn’t already have, including flip-flops, a beach towel, and a pair of sunglasses. It was so cloudy in Rosohna that she barely needed them.

Molly had taken a look at the list, scoffed, and made his own decisions about what to bring, which meant that he was dressed for a trip to the beach in leather pants and knee-high boots.

‘You’re going to overheat,’ Jester told him. ‘Come on, I think Fjord left some stuff here.’ Behind Jester, Beau rolled her eyes, grinning.

‘There’s _totally_ nothing going on,’ she whispered under her breath to Yasha, as Jester led Molly down the hallway. ‘They’re absolutely not dancing around each other, too shy to make the first proper move.’

Yasha raised an eyebrow. Of all the words to describe Jester, “shy” wouldn’t have been the one she’d pick. Vivacious might’ve been a good one.

‘I swear,’ Beau continued. ‘One day I’m just gonna lock them in a closet and wait for them to be done with it.’ Yasha was only half listening. Beau had changed into a bright blue crop top, and baggy blue shorts, leaving a considerable span of stomach showing. Beau gave her a sidelong glance, and lowered the shorts a little. ‘You know, if you want, we can have our own closet time later.’

Yasha couldn’t deny that she was interested in the idea. She wasn’t entirely sure if she was ready, though. She hadn’t been with anyone since Zuala, and while she l...liked Beau a lot, she wasn’t sure if she was ready to take that step.

Beau seemed to sense the hesitation, because she stepped back almost immediately. ‘Hey, if you don’t want to, that’s cool too.’ She sounded a little disappointed, and Yasha was slightly worried. She did not have a great deal of relationship experience, admittedly, but she knew that at some point, sex generally happened. From what she could tell, Beau was a person that was quite interested in sex, and Yasha was worried that if they waited too long, she would lose interest in the relationship.

There was a reason, after all that Yasha had been so reluctant to ask about Beau’s past. Asking questions left her own past up to scrutiny, and that was something that Yasha wanted to wait for the right time to bring up. 

Before either of them could say anything further, though, Jester and Molly had returned, Jester looking very pleased, Molly looking sort of smugly thrilled. It didn’t take too long to figure out why; Molly had always been a proponent of terrible fashion choices. His top half was dressed like the hero of a scandalous pirate romance novel, and his bottom half like he had only vaguely heard of the way colors worked, the bright red and white of the shorts clashing horribly with the deep purple of his skin-tone, even slathered as it was with eggshell-white suncream.

‘Look at me, Yash,’ he said, gleefully. ‘I’m hideous!’

Beau gave him a once over. ‘It doesn’t look that bad. But, to be fair, it  _would_ look better if you had green skin.’

Molly looked horrified. ‘Was that something that vaguely skirted the edge of a compliment? Beauregard, I am  _shocked_ and appalled.’

‘Fuck you.’ Beau rolled her eyes, but she was smiling.

‘Not even if you were the last person on the planet,’ Molly said, cheerfully. Beau’s smile morphed into a slight grin, and Yasha got the impression that she was beginning to enjoy the back and forth.

‘Wait!’ Jester said, as they made to walk out the front door. She went to a cupboard beside the door, and rummaged through it, eventually producing two enormous straw hats. One of them had hole for horns, which Molly took, jamming it onto his head with enthusiasm. Yasha carefully put her own hat on, and looked to Beau.

Beau adamantly refused a sunhat, and instead wore a (backwards) snapback and dark sunglasses.

Dressed appropriately, and definitely not looking like a weird ska band that had gotten lost on the way to a gig, they made their way down to the beach, which, Yasha soon realized, was literally five minutes away on foot.

Jester was carrying a picnic basket in which Yasha had personally seen her deposit an inordinate amount of pastries, drinks, and snacks, none of which seemed to involve anything that resembled a fruit or vegetable.

They reached a patch of bushes, with a small sandy path that cut through them. Yasha had seen sand before, but never this light. This was a very pale golden yellow, the grains of it kicking up as Yasha followed Jester along the path. They reached the crest of a small hill, and Jester stepped aside, and suddenly…

‘Oh,’ was all Yasha could think to say. The pictures that Jester had sent did not do this justice; a great wide expanse of bright greenish-blue, with rolling waves, and a salty breeze. Yasha had never seen anything so vast, except perhaps for the Barbed Fields, which were nowhere near as beautiful as this. 

‘Wow,’ said Molly, in impressed a tone as Yasha had ever heard from him. ‘This is just...wow. Good idea coming here, Yash.’

The made their way down the dunes to where the sand was flatter and darker.

The mid-afternoon heat had died down, and the sun was starting to slowly dip towards the horizon. A few surfers were out in the water, but it was surprisingly quiet. Much more quiet than Yasha would have expected the beach to be at the start of summer.

‘Most people go to Port Damali,’ Jester explained. ‘But there’s a bit of the beach that has lifeguards and stuff a bit further north.’

It was nice.

More to the point, it was relaxing.

The settled themselves in a nice spot that wasn’t too far from the water. Yasha pushed her hand down into the sand, and let the grains trickle over her skin. It was an interesting feeling. With her other hand, she took Beau’s, and let their fingers intertwine. Beau looked across at her, and grinned.

‘No sand in Xhorhas?’ Beau asked.

‘Not much of it,’ Yasha told her. ‘There are the deserts, of course, but that’s a different kind of sand. I like this sand. It’s less harsh.’

‘You say that now,’ Jester said, ‘But just wait until you have to wash it off later. It gets _everywhere_.’ Jester dove into the picnic basket, and pulled out what looked like a bear claw, covered in cinnamon.

For a while, they sat and ate, Yasha taking in everything around her.

‘So,’ Molly said eventually, in what was clearly his attempt to be polite. ‘Super-cute tiefling and trashbag human living together in a beachside town. You don’t seem to have a lot in common, so there’s clearly a story there. Tell me, how did you two meet?’

‘Y’know, it’s weird,’ Beau said, looking pensive. She didn’t seem insulted by his words.‘I was technically only there for half of the story, and my half isn’t very interesting. It’s probably better if Jester tells it.’

‘Oh, it’s a super cool story,’ Jester said. She paused. ‘Are you sure it’s okay, that I tell it, Beau?’

‘Yeah, go for it. I’m just gonna go...’ Beau trailed off, standing, and wandered off towards the ocean. Yasha made stand and follow, but something stopped her. She wanted to hear the story.

‘She doesn’t like the story.’ Jester’s voice was low and conspiratorial. ‘It’s like...a painful memory for her I guess. Not meeting me I mean, but like…the way she met me.’ There was a pause. ‘So like, just FYI, my momma’s a courtesan, and she owns a brothel.’

Yasha raised an eyebrow. That was not how she expected the story to start. ‘...It’s called the _Lavish_ _Chateau_, and it’s super famous, and people come from all around to watch Momma perform.’

‘Sure,’ Molly said, as though that was a normal thing to find out about a friend. Yasha recalled that he had several friends back home that owned a cabaret show.

‘So like...because we have so many rich and important people that come to the _Chateau_, we have a lot of really fancy alcohol there. The kinds that you have to buy directly from the people that make it.’

Things started to click into place for Yasha. ‘Her family’s winery.’

Jester nodded. ‘So there was this asshole guy that would come to deliver the wine. He was like...really important, so I don’t know why he didn’t send someone, given that he lived in the Empire. Momma thinks he wanted to make some business connections in Nicodranas, and he was using the  _Chateau _ to do it. Anyway, when he made the deliveries, he brought his daughter along to help carry the boxes.’

‘Beau,’ Yasha surmised. Jester nodded.

‘She’s like...a couple of years older than me, so I think she was seventeen then. I used to help her bring the cases in. But like...the guy – her dad – he would treat her really badly; one time, she had bruises all over her face. Then, another time, she accidentally dropped a case – nothing even broke – and then he screamed at her in front of everyone. It was really bad.’

Yasha felt the fury rise in her stomach. Beau had always been particularly blasé about the relationship she had with her parents. Yasha knew that it had been bad, but this…This was beyond bad. This was...Yasha didn’t even have the words for what this was. Even Molly looked slightly horrified at the story so far. And Jester hadn’t finished.

‘Then, the next time he came, it was on his own. When Momma asked him what had happened, he said they’d had a fight and he’d kicked her out, and that he hoped he never saw her again. We spent like… a week trying to find her, and when we did, she said she was sleeping out on the street, and showering at the gym. So we took her in, and we stopped buying wine from that…douchebag.’

There was another long pause. ‘She had a really rough time for a couple of years, after that. The government kept trying to send her back to the Empire. But she’s like...practically my sister, now, so I’m really glad that there’s someone that’s making her happy.’

‘I…’ Yasha started. She’d never considered herself to be the sort of person that would make someone else happy. Even Zuala...she’d been young enough, and foolish enough that sheer lust had carried them through the first couple of years, and by the time Yasha realized that she was in love, it was over.

‘Wow,’ Molly said. ‘I feel kind of bad now, for being such a dick.’

‘Oh, don’t be,’ Jester said, waving a hand. ‘Everyone here is so nice, she likes having someone she can throw insults back and forth with.’

Molly looked mildly offended. ‘Are you saying I’m not  _nice_ ?’

‘Well...’

Molly grinned, and patted Jester on the shoulder. ‘Oh, never fear, my dear, I  _know_ I’m an asshole. The fun part is knowing when to use it.’ Yasha couldn’t agree that he knew necessarily when to use it; the tiefling had gotten into trouble on multiple occasions for being an asshole during ill-advised moments.

Seemingly sensing that the conversation regarding her past was over, Beau wandered back to the group, and dropped onto the sand next to Yasha. Without saying a word, Yasha found her hand and squeezed it tightly, trying to say so many things that she didn’t quite have the words to say. Beau squeezed back. For a moment, Yasha was lost in it all, in the hand holding hers, in the sound of the waves, and the gentle salt breeze that came from the west.

“Doo-doo, doo-do-dooooo!”

Yasha jumped at the sudden sound, and Beau rolled her eyes. Jester grabbed for her phone. Yasha gave Beau a questioning look.

‘It’s her message tone,’ Beau explained. ‘She recorded it herself, and refuses to change it.’

‘How else will I know I’ve got a message? Ooh, it’s Fjord!’

‘You don’t, you ignore messages and respond six days later like the rest of us.’ Beau popped three cubes of cheese into her mouth. Her next words were spoken in between chews. ‘Just be grateful it’s not ringing.’

‘What does it sound like when it’s ringing?’ Molly asked, staring directly at Beau. She shot him back a look that quite clearly said, “fuck you.”

Jester looked so happy that he had asked, and proceeded to play a song that seemed to be mainly the word “Lollipop” repeated over and over again.

‘So what did Fjord want?’ Beau asked, quickly, apparently to avoid Jester from playing the song again.

‘Oh, he’s coming to meet us,’ Jester said, in a faux nonchalant sort of voice. Her blue cheeks were tinged with pink. ‘He’s _really_ cool,’ she told Molly and Yasha. ‘He works down on the docks loading crates. It makes him _so_ muscular.’

‘Eh,’ Beau shrugged, and waved a hand a little. ‘Muscular-ish.’

Jester frowned, but it disappeared quickly. ‘Anyway, he’s dropping by Pumat’s to get dinner, so I told him to get enough for five, and we can pay him back.’ Beau grimaced slightly, but seemed to go to great pains not to let Jester see it.

Forty-five minutes or so later (during which time Jester and Molly built a sandcastle, buried Beau up to her neck in the sand, and attempted to surf down a sand dune on a bit of discarded cardboard), a half-orc came up to join them. He was wearing a navy blue boilersuit, the top half of it tied around his waist to show a plain white undershirt. Yasha estimated that he was probably a little bit taller than her, but not quite as stocky. 

This must have been Fjord.

Fjord sat down on the sand next to Jester, setting a large paper-wrapped package in the center of the loose circle. From it, Yasha got the unmistakable waft of fried food.

‘Yasha, Molly, this is Fjord,’ Jester told them. ‘Fjord, Yasha and Molly.’

Fjord frowned, staring at Molly. ‘Are those my shorts?’

‘You left them here last time after we went swimming that one time,’ Jester told him. ‘Molly needed something to wear.’

The frown deepened a little, but Fjord said nothing, instead pulling apart the paper package to reveal a smorgasbord of fish, chips, and various other things covered in batter. There was ten minutes or so where no-one said anything, simply helping themselves to food. Yasha loaded a plastic plate (from the picnic basket) with a little bit of everything.

‘It’s like we’re on a triple date,’ Jester said, happily, as they all ate. ‘Though we need someone for Molly. Molly, are you gay?’ Beau almost choked on a chip.

‘Jester,’ Fjord said, admonishingly, though Yasha noticed that he seemed inordinately pleased that this was considered a date.

Molly waved a hand. ‘While my gender is in a state of flux,’ he said, ‘My orientation is a much more static “anyone and everyone.”’

Jester frowned. ‘What?’

‘He’s pan,’ Yasha said, dully. She was used to having to translate Molly’s strange euphemisms.

‘Yup,’ Molly said, cheerfully. ‘My type is any consenting adult that I’m not related to, and since my whole family is dead, that just leaves everyone.’

There was an awkward sort of pause. ‘I literally remember nothing about them,’ Molly continued. ‘So it’s not exactly a heartbreaking situation. I have Yasha, and I have all my friends back in Rosohna, and that’s plenty enough for me.’

‘You have us, too!’ Jester told him. ‘Even though I’ve only known you for like...four hours, I know we’re going to be best friends.’

‘Hey,’ said Fjord and Beau, simultaneously. They both looked a little embarrassed for having said it.

‘_You’re_ my best friends, too,’ Jester said, reassuringly. ‘I love _everyone_ the most. Anyway, if you’re interested, Molly, I’m sure we can find you someone cute.’

‘I defer to your judgment,’ Molly said, in a tone of put-upon humbleness. Molly was many things, but humble wasn’t one of them.

‘Have you met anyone else yet?’ Fjord asked. There was an almost shrewd look on his face.

‘They haven’t met _anyone_,’ Jester said, pouting slightly. ‘They haven’t even met Momma. They only got in today, remember? Maybe we should have a _party_, that way we can introduce them to everyone all at once!’ Yasha balked slightly at the thought. She was not much of one for large gatherings of people; even five was pushing her limits a little bit. Molly loved them, though, and she loved Molly.

Beau seemed to sense her discomfort. ‘Don’t worry,’ Beau told her. ‘We can do the rounds, and then go and get drunk on the roof, or something.’ Molly seemed to perk up at that thought, even though it had been in no way directed at him.

‘Veth and Caleb,’ Jester said. ‘Maybe Caduceus?’

Beau shook her head. ‘He’ll be working. He doesn’t have anyone else to run the shop.’ She looked to Yasha. ‘Caduceus runs a...tea shop.’ There was a strange sort of pause. ‘I think you’d like him.’

‘Dairon?’ Jester asked.

Beau snorted. ‘She uh...I don’t think that would really be their scene.’ Yasha had not met Dairon, but had heard enough about them from Beau to know that a party was definitely not their scene.

As the sun set, Jester brought out fake, battery-powered candles.

It had been a long day.

It had been a long day, but a good day. Being here, any regrets or concerns that Yasha might have had, started to fade.

There were still so many steps they needed to take, so many boundaries that they needed to cross, but Yasha knew that she had definitely made the right call in coming here. With these thoughts in mind, she leaned over and pulled Beau towards her.

‘Something on your mind?’ Beau asked, softly. She leaned into Yasha’s chest, and Yasha wrapped an arm around her, pressing a kiss to the top of her head.

‘Just glad I’m finally here,’ she said.


	5. Breakfast

5 – Breakfast

The next morning, Yasha woke up early. It wasn’t a huge time difference between Rosohna and Nicodranas, but it was enough that her body hadn’t quite adjusted yet. Molly was still fast asleep, his body draped in the outrageous Bahamut quilt that he refused to travel without. Yasha wasn’t sure why, considering that he didn’t even  _worship_ the Platinum Dragon.

Her watch told her it was a little past five thirty, and the sun was just starting to rise. Despite the early hour though, she could hear that someone else in the house was already awake.

Yasha opened the door, and came face to face with Beau, a banana in her mouth, and her gym bag slung over her shoulder. ‘I didn’t wake you did I?’ She sounded concerned. Yasha shook her head.

‘No, I uh...My body is still getting used to the clock, I guess. You are going to the gym?’

Beau grimaced. ‘Yeah, early morning training session,’ she said. ‘But I’ll be back in time for breakfast, assuming Dairon doesn’t murder me. See you in a couple of hours.’ She gave Yasha a quick kiss on the cheek before running out the front door. Yasha got the vague impression that training was supposed to have started at five-thirty.

A sudden thought struck Yasha, and she went back to the spare room to wake Molly. He’d woken her at far more ridiculous hours for things far more petty, so she didn’t exactly feel guilty.

‘What do you want?’ the tiefling mumbled, not grumpy, but not fully awake, either.

‘Help me make breakfast for Beau.’ Molly blinked. He blinked again.

‘Alright,’ he said, finally. ‘What does she eat?’

Yasha stared at him, blankly.  _What_ did _ Beau eat?_ Whenever Yasha had been around, it had always been lunch or dinnertime. She had no idea what Beau liked to eat for breakfast. ‘Uh...’

‘How much do you really know about this girl, Yasha? What’s her favorite color?’

‘Blue,’ Yasha said, automatically.

Molly frowned. ‘Okay, that was too easy. I could’ve gotten that one. Deepest and darkest dreams or desires?’

‘Molly...’

‘No, I’ve got a better one. Weirdest sex fantasy.’

Yasha gave him a look. ‘It’s a great fantasy,’ she said, ‘Involving the two of us beating the shit out of you. The strange thing though is that no-one ends up having sex.’

‘Story of your life,’ he muttered, and Yasha gave him a playful sort of shove. ‘Seriously, though, do you know what she does for a living? What kind of movies does she like?’

‘She works at the library,’ Yasha told him, evenly. ‘She’s studying to get her Masters in history and library science. She likes science fiction and old martial arts movies. She’s having to do coursework over the summer because she spent half of the semester recovering from a motorcycle accident in Xhorhas.’

‘And yet I never met her,’ Molly pouted. ‘Alright, well I guess I’m semi-convinced you didn’t just pick a random woman off the side of the road and decide to date her.’ There was no small amount of sarcasm in Molly’s voice, which Yasha decided to ignore. She loved him dearly, but he could get a little...obnoxious sometimes. ‘And correct me if I’m wrong, but I think a certain over-excitable blue tiefling might be able to tell you exactly what your lady love would like for breakfast.’

Yasha stared at him. She hadn’t thought of that. Now that he’d said it, it seemed like the obvious course of action. It was, of course, very early in the morning, though. Jester would be fast asleep.

Taking a change, Yasha went quietly down the hall to the tiefling’s bedroom. The door was wide open. ‘ _Oh, Oskar..._ ’ came Jester’s voice. Yasha froze, and frowned. She could have sworn that the half-orc’s name was Fjord. Deciding that she would rather leave Jester to her dream (sincerely hoping that it was a dream) Yasha went to the kitchen. The contents of the fridge, she decided, would give her a better idea of what Beau liked to eat.

Yasha was surprised to find that Beau’s side of the fridge was incredibly well organized. There was a stack of plastic containers filled with chicken and vegetables, each one labeled with a meal and a day of the week. Yasha vaguely recalled Beau complaining about Dairon trying to put her on a meal plan to cut weight for a fight, and supposed this was something similar, though she didn’t imagine that Beau would be booking a fight anytime soon. In addition to the containers, there was also a packet of thick-cut bacon, and a carton of free-range eggs.

_Bingo_ .

Knowing that Beau would not be back from the gym for some time yet, Yasha spent the next hour or so editing the last batch of photos she had taken in Rosohna. The weather forecast for this week told Yasha that there thunderstorms expected from Folsen through to the following Grissen. Perfect. 

By the time she was done, Jester was awake, looking very refreshed (Yasha dutifully avoided eye contact), and the three of them set about making pancakes, bacon and eggs. Jester went down to the bakery to pick up her morning pastries, and while she was there, also got a large loaf of fresh bread.

By the time Beau walked through the door at seven thirty-three, there was sliced bread, sizzling bacon, and a platter of scrambled eggs on the table. Molly was just putting the finishing touches on the pancakes when Beau set her gym bag down on an empty chair. ‘Smells good.’ She sniffed her armpit. ‘I cannot say the same about myself, though. I am going to go use up all the hot water.’ She sounded slightly dejected, and when she walked towards the bathroom, she was hobbling slightly. She had left the cane at home, Yasha realized.

Jester followed Yasha’s gaze. ‘She’s always like that after working out now,’ the tiefling whispered, conspiratorially. ‘Because Dairon still doesn’t think she’s ready to fight. Like...doesn’t think she’ll be ready for ages.’

‘Oh,’ Yasha said. She didn’t know what else to say. 

Didn’t know what else she  _could_ say.

...

Beau was starving.

Dairon had worked her to her breaking point, and even then wasn’t entirely satisfied. Beau had left with a scowl on her face that only eased once she stepped back into the house to a waiting breakfast. Since it wouldn’t be a great idea to stink out the whole table, she showered before coming back to wolf down two and a half plates of food.

‘Dear Gods, Yasha, you’re dating a werewolf,’ Molly said, almost horrified. Beau frowned slightly, but he gave her a slight wink, which more than anything was just confusing.

‘Be careful the next time full moon comes around,’ Beau muttered. ‘You’re the first one I’ll tear apart.’ Beau washed everything down with a large glass of orange juice. ‘Do you mind hanging out with Jester today? I have work at noon.’ Jester was off having a shower, but given the amount of hours Beau was working recently, Jester had agreed to help shoulder some of the social load. Not that she had taken much convincing.

Yasha frowned slightly. ‘Oh. That should be alright. What time do you finish?’

‘Nine.’

The frown deepened. ‘That’s a long shift.’

‘I’m still paying off Jester’s mom for the hotel room, and all the other money she loaned us,’ Beau said. ‘So I need the money.’

‘Jester said—’

‘Jester doesn’t know I’m doing it,’ Beau admitted. More to the point, it had taken a lot of convincing for Marion to even _let_ Beau pay her back, but Beau didn’t like letting a debt go unpaid. It was bad enough that Marion didn’t let her pay rent. She had been pulling double shifts at the library, and picking up under the table fights that Dairon would murder her for taking (and in fact, _had_ almost murdered her for taking). Underground, bare-knuckle sort of fights with absolutely no legitimacy, and even fewer health and safety regulations. There were some other bits and pieces of passive income, but not nearly enough to cover her fees.

Not to mention the fact that she had her physical therapy bills, all the other hospital bills she’d picked up since returning to Nicodranas,  _and_ her student loans. So...double shifts. The last thing she wanted to do was call her parents for help. More than likely, they’d laugh themselves to death over the phone. In fact, maybe that was a reason that she  _should_ call them.

‘Plus,’ Beau said with a shrug. ‘I gotta pay all my course fees.’

‘I thought you were on a scholarship.’

‘Partial scholarship,’ Beau told her. ‘Which barely covers shit. I’m not even close to breaking even on my course payments.’

Molly narrowed his eyes. ‘Don’t they have financial aid in Nicodranas? Surely you would qualify for that.’

‘Yeah, they do.’ Beau felt a sudden rise of fury in her chest.. ‘But my parents make too much money for me to get aid, and they refuse to sign the paperwork to say that they’re not contributing. Fucking assholes.’

There was a long awkward silence, and Beau could see the anger in Yasha’s eyes.

‘I mean,’ Beau continued. ‘They are technically helping me pay for school, even if they don’t realize it.’ She realized that she’d said too much when Yasha’s expression turned from anger to confusion. Beau waved it off. That was a long story that she didn’t have time to get into right now.

They whittled away the morning lazily, Beau taking Molly and Yasha for a walk around town, showing them Orly’s tattoo shop, and the Pharmacy that Veth and Yeza ran, and Caduceus’s tea shop…They didn’t actually go inside any of them, knowing that the conversations alone would take up the whole day.

At quarter to twelve, Beau bid Yasha goodbye. ‘See you tonight, yeah?’

‘We can come pick you up,’ Yasha smiled. Molly very obviously rolled his eyes.

The afternoon passed slowly. It being summer, there was a rush of kids wanting all sorts of weird and obscure books, leaving toys everywhere, and generally making a nuisance of themselves. Things got a little better when Caleb started; at least then Beau didn’t have to shoulder all of Zeenoth’s indigence on her own.

‘Yo, Caleb,’ Beau greeted the tall, thin red-haired man. ‘You free tomorrow night?’

Caleb, used to her directness, thought for a moment. ‘ _Ja_ , I am free.’

‘Well, Yasha arrived yesterday, and Jester wants to have a party. You interested?’

‘Yasha, who you have been talking about non-stop for the past few months?’ he asked, clearly amused. ‘She is real, then?’

‘Ah, fuck you Caleb.’ Beau threw a pillow at him. ‘Yes she’s real, do you want to meet her? You don’t have to talk to anyone if you don’t want to; just show up, say hi, and then go home to your cat and your books.’

‘You say that like it’s a bad thing,’ Caleb murmured. ‘_Ja_, of course I will come. But I will, of course, be going home to my cat and my books very quickly. You understand.’

Beau grinned. She wouldn’t have expected anything less.

The rest of the shift passed quickly after that, except for the last hour or so, which moved, as it always did, at a crawl. At eight fifty-nine, Beau had packed her bag, punched out, and was back to the front desk where Yasha and Molly were waiting. Zeenoth gave her a reproachful look, but said nothing.

‘Hey, Yash.’ Beau gave Yasha a kiss on the cheek. ‘Hey Molly.’ She gave Molly the finger, which he returned gleefully. ‘See ya, Caleb,’ she called back towards the stacks. A ginger-colored head popped up out of them.

‘_Tschüss_, Beauregard,’ he called back, with a small wave. Molly eyed him curiously.

‘Friend of yours?’

‘Caleb works the graveyard shift,’ Beau told him. ‘Since we’re closed, it means once he’s finished restocking the books, he gets as much time to read as his pretty heart desires.’

Molly rubbed his chin. ‘Think he’d be up for a quick tussle in the Queer lit section?’ Beau grimaced. The last thing she wanted to think about was having to clean up after  _that_ in the morning.

‘Save it for date night,’ she told the tiefling, who looked suddenly hopeful.

‘Meaning he’s single?’

‘Honestly, I have no fucking clue,’ Beau admitted. Not that she didn’t talk to Caleb. She talked to Caleb quite a bit, actually. It was just that most of their conversations revolved around history, and languages, and whether or not they needed new pillows in the kids’ corner. The conversation of each others’ sex lives was a topic that both of them were quite eager to avoid.

‘Can you get me a hook-up?’

Beau paused. ‘I don’t even know if he’s into...gender non-conforming, male-presenting individuals?’

‘That’ll do,’ Molly said, with a grin. ‘Just fake an excuse to bring him around for dinner, and I can lay on the charm myself.’

Yasha snorted. Beau got the impression that Molly’s experiences in laying on the charm were far less successful than he would have them believe.

‘Well, he’s not much of a people person, but he’s coming to the thing tomorrow, so you can try your luck then, I guess. Just know that if you hurt him, I will kick your ass.’

‘Scout’s honor,’ Molly said, making a gesture that almost certainly was not a scout salute.

‘But you know,’ Beau said, giving Molly a curious sort of look. ‘Like...he’s a smart dude. He’s into books, and arcane theory, and...nerd things, you know?’

‘I like books,’ Molly said, frowning slightly.

‘You can’t read,’ Yasha reminded him.

‘I like books in theory,’ Molly amended. ‘And besides, of course I can read. I know my name, I know all the swear words, I know a few other very short words, even if I do have to get Yasha to help me with my emails. It’s a work in progress.’

‘Well, maybe you can get Caleb to teach you,’ Beau muttered. It was meant in an off-hand sort of way, but she wasn’t sure she liked the suddenly scheming look in Molly’s eyes.

Still. 

Getting Caleb some socialization wouldn’t necessarily be the worst thing in the world.


	6. A Taste of Transparency

6 – A Taste of Transparency

The next morning, Yasha was feeling nervous. It was strange; she had ridden through ferocious storms, been dropped into war zones, had had the love of her life die in her arms, but she had never been quite so nervous.

Perhaps it was the thought of being...well, on display. Yasha was not a people person at the best of times (neither was Beau, exactly, but Beau at least, didn’t mind letting her hair down and talking to people).

‘You’ll be fine,’ Beau said, not in a dismissive sort of way. She was in the kitchen, making a marinade for the steaks. Yasha was sitting opposite her, finishing off the breakfast that Beau had made. ‘Remember, if it gets too much, we can go lock ourselves in the bedroom.’

Yasha grinned. She was glad that Beau didn’t seem to be the sort of person to force her to socialize. Finishing up the last of her egg, Yasha got to her feet, and rinsed off the empty plate. ‘Can I do anything to help?’

‘Yeah, actually, speaking of bedrooms,’ Beau said. ‘In the left hand side of the closet next to my desk, there’ll be some bottles – could you grab the whiskey that’s closest to the front and bring it here?’

Yasha hastened to obey, making her way down the hallway to Beau’s bedroom. Jester had painted a mural in here, too, though it had taken Yasha a moment to realize it. The majority of the wall was a light, sky blue, and in one corner, there were a series of birds in flight. She got the impression that a compromise had been made.

Yasha found the closet next to the desk, and opened it. She stared. It didn’t strike her as interesting until that moment that Beau would keep whiskey in her bedroom, but, inside the closet, Yasha found more than just whiskey; there were dozens and dozens of bottles there, many of which seemed to be unopened.

_Was Beau secretly an alcoholic?_

Yasha didn’t think so; she would have been expected the bottles to be far fewer, far emptier if that were the case; this was the collection of someone with very expensive taste, and from what Yasha knew, Beau couldn’t exactly afford to have expensive taste right now. _Was she stealing alcohol_? Yasha’s stomach did an uncomfortable sort of flip-flop. She knew, though, that Beau would get suspicious if she took too long, so she found the bottle of whiskey, closed the closet, and went back out into the kitchen.

Beau caught on almost immediately; Yasha’s poker face had always been terrible.

‘Shit,’ Beau said. ‘I didn’t even think how weird that might look; trust me, I can explain. It’s not what it looks like.’

‘Really?’ Yasha asked, incredulous, ‘Because it looks like you’re hiding thousands of gold worth of alcohol in your bedroom closet.’

There was a pause.

‘Okay, well it is that,’ Beau admitted. ‘But not for the reasons you might think. Lemme show you.’

Beau went to the pantry, where there was a much more modest looking collection that seemed to be just wine . Beau made a show of selecting one; a dark green bottle with a bright yellow label. ‘You like red?’

‘Sure,’ Yasha said, a little warily. ‘Beau, it’s ten in the morning.’

Beau waved a hand. ‘Don’t worry, we’re just tasting.’ She poured out about an inch of wine, and passed the glass over.

‘Close your eyes, and just taste.’

Yasha did as she was instructed, still not entirely sure where this was going. She closed her eyes, and took a small sip.

It was pretty good.

Yasha was generally more of a beer or spirits kind of person, but this wine had some nice flavors to it. None that she could actually put a name too.

‘That’s a sweet Zinfandel,’ Beau told her. ‘Hints of raspberry and cinnamon, pairs well with dark chocolate.’

Yasha frowned, still a little uncertain. ‘You’re...secretly a wine taster?’

‘Well, not just wine,’ Beau said, shrugging. ‘Beer, whiskey...occasionally some rum. I write online alcohol reviews that are….pretty well-regarded, actually. Enough that people send me bottles of their stuff so I can write a review.’ She turned the bottle on the table around. The label read “Lionett Wineries.”

_Lionett_ .

‘Lionett,’ Yasha said, slowly. ‘That’s your family?’

‘Yeah,’ Beau said. She was frowning now, too. ‘It’s funny. They refuse to talk to me again, but every season they send a case of wine to Classy Booze Reviews.’ There was a pause. ‘I have to get everything sent to a proxy address so I can stay anonymous.’

A beat of silence. ‘Hence...closet full of booze.’

Yasha examined the bottle. ‘Do you think your parents...’ She trailed off, unsure how to phrase it. ‘What would they think, if they knew?’

Beau laughed. ‘Well, the first thing they would probably think would be “why the fuck did you give our last Riesling a B minus?” to which I would say “Rieslings aren’t suppose to make me feel like I stepped into a perfume store. Tone it the fuck down, Dad.” The second thing they would think would probably be “we spent all that money on private school, why are you writing for a blog?” to which I would say fuck you.’

Yasha quirked an eyebrow. It wasn’t, after all, as though Beau  _just_ wrote for a blog. She also worked at the library, trained for fights, and spent a great deal of time doing the coursework for her Masters program. The fact that it was summer didn’t seem to slow any of this down; in fact, Beau was still working to catch up on the things she had missed while stuck in a hospital in Xhorhas.

‘They’re kind of dicks, huh.’ It wasn’t a question

Beau laughed, but it was a dark, bitter laugh. ‘ Well, you heard the story from Jester,’ she said, but Yasha got the impression that there was a lot more to the story than even Jester knew.  But again...asking about that meant that Yasha would have to talk about Zuala, and it did not yet seem like the right time for that. It wasn’t that she wanted to keep it a secret, but it was a delicate conversation to have. Yasha would have to plan out what she was going to say. ‘ It wasn’t exactly a picnic growing up, but, you know...that’s in the past. I’d like to say I’ll never have to deal with them again, but unfortunately, they continue to be assholes.’

Yasha frowned, but said nothing. Beau continued, unprompted. ‘Trying to call me, sending me letters. Wanting to control my life in the way that they used to. I guess they didn’t realize that kicking me out meant they wouldn’t be able to get their rocks off on being manipulative shitstains anymore.’

‘They send letters?’ Yasha couldn’t quite keep the worry out of her voice. She couldn’t imagine that the contents of those letters would be anything positive.

‘I opened one once. A whole bunch of bullshit of them trying to guilt-trip me into calling them.’

‘They don’t try calling the Lavish Chateau?’

‘They did,’ Jester said, cheerfully, yawning as she entered the kitchen. ‘Until Momma started yelling at them every time they called. You know, “Beau will talk to you when she’s ready, and frankly you’re both terrible people that should go rot in hell, and I would much prefer she didn’t call you at all, but I won’t stop her from doing it if that’s what she really wants.”’

‘That’s not what she said,’ Beau said, mildly.

‘It was implied,’ Jester shrugged. That, Beau didn’t argue with.

‘Your mother sounds like a very formidable woman,’ Yasha said.

‘She really is, when she wants to be,’ Jester said, proudly. ‘We can go and visit her this morning if you want. She doesn’t leave the Chateau.’

“Agoraphobic,” Beau mouthed, to Yasha. To Jester, she said, ‘I’m almost finished the marinade; I just have to put it on the steaks, and we can go.’

‘I’ll call her,’ Jester said. ‘Just so she knows we’re coming.’ Jester grabbed her phone (that had apparently been jammed into her bra).

Beau rolled her eyes. ‘She doesn’t care if we don’t call,  but if we do, then she’ll  arrange for breakfast.’

‘I’ve had breakfast.’

Beau waved a hand. ‘Second breakfast.  Trust me,’  she said. ‘ Bluud puts on a  _really_ nice spread.’

…

They reached the Lavish Chateau a little after eleven, waylaid by Jester’s insistence on making a few more preparations for this evening before they left. As they pulled into the parking lot, Beau watched Yasha’s expression. She always enjoyed bringing new people to the Chateau, because their expressions were always great fun to watch.

The Chateau was bar none, the nicest building in town. With turn of the century stylings, it was impeccably maintained, and drew the eye of every single person that walked past it.  Molly would have fucking loved it, and for about half a second, Beau regretted not trying a little harder to wake the tiefling up.

‘He would sleep through his own funeral,’ Yasha told them, in a deadpan sort of voice. So, Beau had left a note pierced onto one of his horns, telling him where they’d gone.

At this time of day, a “CLOSED” sign hung on the front door, but Beau was fairly certain she had never gone in through the front door. They went around back to the staff entrance, and Beau fumbled on her  key-chain for the key.  Before she’d managed to find it (in amongst the key to the library, the key to the gym, the key to her bike that she still hadn’t bothered to throw away), the door swung open, and an enormous, hulking minotaur stood there.

‘Hey Bluud,’ Beau said.

‘Hey there, Miss Beau,’ Bluud said, in his low voice. ‘Hey Jester.’ Jester ran up and gave the minotaur a hug.

‘Hi, Bluud! This is Yasha, Beau’s girlfriend.’ Bluud gave Yasha a look over.

‘Nice to meet you,’ Bluud said. He held out a furry hand for Yasha to shake. Yasha, being from Xhorhas, had no doubt met her fair share of minotaurs. ‘Jester’s told me a lot about you.’ Yasha raised an eyebrow in Beau’s direction. Beau shrugged.

‘Jester talks a lot more than I do,’ she said. Yasha smiled.

‘I know. I was teasing you.’ Beau felt a sudden warmth spread in her chest. Yasha being playful was a new and welcome development. Not that things had necessarily been dour before.

‘Is that my girls I hear?’ came a voice from half-way down the stairs. Beau looked up and saw a robe-clad Ruby of the Sea, looking as though she’d just stepped out of a beauty magazine, even though it was long before working hours.

‘Mama!’ Jester cried, and ran to give Marion Lavorre a hug. A more slowly, Beau followed, moving in to give Marion a hug, and was instead greeted with both a hug and a kiss to the cheek.

‘Hey Marion,’ Beau said. Marion gave her a look that Beau couldn’t quite interpret. ‘This is Yasha. Yasha, Jester’s mom, Marion Lavorre.’

‘It’s nice to meet you,’ Yasha said, in a formal sort of voice.

‘It’s wonderful to meet you too, dear,’ Marion said. ‘I could not tell you how nice it is to see Beauregard so happy when she talks about you.’

Yasha froze slightly, and Beau – too late – wondered if this was a bit too much. Since coming to Nicodranas, Yasha had been a little subdued, to the point where Beau had the vaguest thoughts that something might have been wrong. Perhaps bringing her here had been the wrong course of action.

‘I’m very glad to make her happy,’ Yasha said, and she was still smiling. Beau relaxed.

‘Come into the dining room and have something to eat,’ Marion said, ushering through the back hallways to the private dining room, only to be used by staff, and family. Marion more often than not ate in her own parlor, but if Jester and Beau were around, she would occasionally join them in the dining room.

As suspected, Bluud had put on a very nice spread. There were stacks of toast, and a couple of plates of scrambled eggs stacked high, not to mention a wide variety of fancy fruits and pastries.

‘There’s bacon on the stove, dear, if you want some,’ Marion said, warmly, as Beau loaded up her plate.

‘Thanks, mom,’ Beau said. Then, she froze. _Shit_. ‘Sorry, slip of the tongue. Thanks, Marion.’ It had been a battle in itself for Beau to say Marion instead of Ms Lavorre. But _mom_. There were a lot of latent (or not so latent) Mommy issues there. Beau looked around frantically to see if anyone noticed. Jester, standing by the warmer full of pastries, gave her a wink. Yasha wasn’t even paying attention, instead staring, transfixed, at the automated pancake flipper. Fair call, Beau had been utterly perplexed by it the first time she’d seen it.

‘You can call me mom if you like,’ Marion said, placidly, as though Beau had said nothing more dramatic than “good morning.” Beau considered it for a moment. It would feel way too weird to do that. Marion was Jester’s mother, not hers. _Her _mother was back in Kamordah, being a raging bitch, and complaining about a spot of dust on the good china, or chewing out the gardener because the petunias were wilting. Just being thoroughly unpleasant in general.

‘Uh...’ Beau said. ‘Sorry, Marion.’ Even though she wanted to, it just…She couldn’t. Even after almost ten years, she still felt like something of an intruder in the family. The third wheel that showed up uninvited to Winter’s Crest and Harvest Close.

‘I mean, you can call her mom,’ Jester whispered to Beau as they both sat down at the long wooden table. ‘It won’t be weird.’

‘It’ll be weird for _me_,’ Beau said, giving Jester a look that would hopefully nip things in the bud for good. Yasha had clearly heard none of this, and returned to the table with an enormous stack of pancakes.

‘I like pancakes,’ she said, a little defensively, apparently mistaking Beau’s annoyed look for being directed at her.

‘They’re_ really_ good pancakes,’ Jester said. ‘Bluud won’t tell me his recipe.’ She pouted, and stole a strip of bacon from Beau’s plate. Beau half-heartedly tried to shoo her off with a fork. ‘So what else do we need to do before tonight?’

‘Eh,’ Beau said, any annoyance forgotten. ‘We’ve got drinks, we’ve got meats, we’ve got snacks. Everything else, we can’t really do until this afternoon.’

And after all of that? Well, after that, it would be time to have a party.


	7. A Day in the Life of Mollymauk Tealeaf

7 – A Day in the Life of Mollymauk Tealeaf

Mollymauk Tealeaf groaned as he woke, the sun streaming in through a gap in the curtains. He’d been having a great dream; something about fighting an enormous frog with a pair of magical swords.

‘Yash?’ Yasha was not in bed, but then, she’d always been a much earlier riser than him. Molly realized, suddenly, that something was attached to his horns, blocking out part of the light. He pulled the piece of paper, which tore slightly. It was a note.

Molly stared at  it , and groaned. It wasn’t Yasha’s handwriting, and in any case, Yasha knew better than to leave a note.

_Hey asshole._

Okay, so it was from the Unpleasant One. He knew “asshole,” of course, and “hey” was short enough that it didn’t give him any problems.

_We’ve gone out_ .

Okay, still pretty simple. They were all words he knew in Common.

_Help yourself to breakfast_ .

“Help,” he knew, but the last three words took a little longer. It would have been much easier if she’d just left him a voicemail.

‘Breakfast,’ he said, finally. ‘Help yourself to breakfast. Oh, cool.’ That could easily have been achieved with pictures, but Molly decided to let it slide. He was always a slut for free food, amongst other things.

“Breakfast,” as it turned out was scrambled eggs and cold toast. Molly supposed it would have been hotter if he’d gotten up – he looked at the clock – _Holy fuck, _it was almost noon. No wonder they’d left without him.

Molly ate, and then had a long shower, taking much care to soap up his horns. They always got a bit gross in hot weather, and would start to smell if he didn’t clean them properly.

Even though he knew he’d sweat like crazy, he put on his leather pants, and his pirate shirt. He had an image to maintain after all.

Thankfully, it was a reasonably cool sort of day, at least by what he assumed were Nicodranian standards. The sunlight that he had been awoken by was now replaced by a mass of pale grey clouds. In Xhorhas, this probably would have been considered hot as fuck. After twenty minutes of walking, Molly was willing to concede that it was probably hot as fucking by Nicodranian standards, too, he’d just been lulled into a false sense of security by the clouds. By the time he reached the town centre, he was dripping with sweat.

Molly peered down the street for a sign for a bakery, or a coffee shop; somewhere he could get a nice cool drink. It took a moment, but his eyes locked onto the tea shop that Beau and Jester had showed him the previous day. Surely there would be something nice and refreshing there.

The shop – _The Blooming Grove – _was all but empty.

In one corner, a couple of gnomes were on what was clearly a first date, and there was a red-haired man that looked vaguely familiar sitting in the corner. He was wearing a scarf and coat, even though it was summer, and was utterly transfixed by the book in his hand. Molly stared at the cover, hoping to decipher the title, which had a _lot_ of long words in it. He stared a little too long perhaps, because the man lowered the book, and gave him a suspicious sort of glare. ‘May I help you?’ The accent wasn’t Nicodranian, but it was also familiar. Then, Molly realized; this was the guy that worked at the library with Beau. Clem? Carl? No. Caleb.

‘I was just looking at your book,’ Molly said, quickly. It wasn’t _entirely_ false.

‘Are you a fan?’ Caleb gestured to the cover of the book, and Molly assumed it was a culturally relevant question. Molly tried to think of a convincing lie, but found himself, for the first time in his life, coming up short.

‘I’m learning to read,’ he admitted. ‘I like to see if I can read random things in public, and I gotta say, you’re setting the bar a little too high.’

‘_Ja_,’ Caleb said. ‘I will admit, it is not for the faint of heart.’ He seemed to notice Molly for the first time, which was surprising, because...well, because Molly tended to be the first thing people noticed in any given situation. What, with his coloring, his clothes, and the fact that he had a general need to be the center of attention at all times. ‘Have we met?’

‘Not officially,’ Molly admitted. ‘I’m a...friend of your colleague – Beau. We might have caught a glimpse of each other the other night when Yasha and I came to pick her up.’

Caleb seemed to straighten, suddenly. ‘Ah,’ he said. ‘You are the, ah “asshole tiefling” from Xhorhas.’

Molly grinned. ‘Yep. Though you’ll forgive me if I request that you make your own judgments.’

Caleb laughed, though it was quiet enough that he almost didn’t hear it. ‘Trust me, my purple friend, I have been the target of Beauregard venting her frustrations long enough to know that most of it is just hot air. If she did not like you at least a little bit, then she would not talk about you at all.’

‘Ah, don’t worry; other peoples’ opinions are not something that I spend a great deal of time worrying about.’

‘_Ja_, I can see that.’ Caleb lowered his head and went back to his book.

It took about a second and a half for the words to sink in. Molly was almost ready to shoot back a scathing response, when he saw the slight smirk on the man’s face. _Teasing_. Well, he could definitely live with that.

‘You gonna be at this shindig tonight?’ Molly asked, as though he didn’t already know the answer to that. Caleb looked up again, seemingly unbothered by the interruption. He gave Molly a look over.

‘_Ja_,’ he said, almost sadly. ‘_Ja_, I will be there.’

Molly grinned. ‘Good to know.’ He jerked his head towards the counter. ‘What do you recommend?’

‘Ah, if you are anything like Beauregard,’ Caleb said, ‘Then I would recommend you request the “chef’s special.”’ He gave a knowing sort of of look. Molly gave a nod of thanks, and returned to the counter. He was pretty sure that this wasn’t the sort of person he could just charm into being interested in him. This was more of a long game. A wine and dine sort of game, rather than a hit it and quit it one. Molly wasn’t sure how he felt about that.

He looked at the person behind the counter, and flinched.

The firbolg was at least two feet taller than Molly, and looked very much as though he was partaking of his own product. ‘Ah, hi,’ Molly said, not entirely convinced. This whole thing felt like a little bit of a set-up. ‘Could I get the Chef’s special, and a lemonade, please.’ The firbolg (Molly glanced over, and realized that he was wearing a name-tag that said “Hi, I’m Caddy”. It took Molly less than thirty seconds to read it. He was very proud.) blinked.

‘The chef’s special?’ he repeated, as though he’d never heard of such a thing before.

‘Yeah, a, uh...friend—’ Molly looked back over at Caleb, who was entranced by his book, ‘—recommended it to me.’

‘Oh, sure,’ Caddy said, and lumbered out to the back. He returned with what they would have called back in Xhorhas a baker’s dozen. Something that you could get about thirteen joints out of. Caddy packaged it up in a nice little tin, and asked for five gold pieces.

Molly gave him six, and a wink. Caddy stared at his hand. ‘It’s only five,’ he said, and gave a coin back.

‘No, it’s a...’ Molly sighed. ‘Never mind,’ he said, and then leaned over and slipped the gold coin into Caddy’s back pocket when he turned around.

‘He is an interesting fellow,’ Caleb said, from his position by the window. ‘But do not expect him to be cognizant of what is going on, ever.’

Molly frowned. ‘Cognizant?’ In general, he was better at speaking Common than reading it, but “cognizant” was not a familiar word.

‘Ah...aware,’ Caleb said, frowning. ‘His head can be...in the clouds, I think you say.’

‘Honestly, I don’t say much of anything at all.’

‘I will believe that when I see it.’ Another joke. This Caleb certainly was a secretly witty sort of fellow. At that point, Caddy seemed to remember that Mollymauk had ordered a lemonade, and set a very large cup filled with ice and yellow liquid in front of him.

‘Cheers, dear.’ Molly gave the firbolg a nod, and the firbolg returned it with confused delight. It was pretty good lemonade. Definitely the refreshing pick-me-up Molly had needed; he downed the whole glass in twenty seconds flat. Maybe there was something to be said about the whole “shorts” thing.

‘Nice to, ah...officially meet you,’ Molly said to Caleb. ‘Shall I see you tonight?’

‘I think so, _ja_,’ Caleb nodded, without looking up. Molly took that as his cue to leave. No reason to spoil the moment.

He continued on down the street, noticing too late that he had drawn the attention of some nearby guards.

‘_Ah, fuck_,’ Molly muttered under his breath, in Infernal. He’d never particularly gotten on that well with guards. For some reason they always seemed to think he was up to something. Molly shoved his hands in his pockets a little deeper, and tried to look innocent. No such luck.

‘Well hello there, sir,’ the guard on the left said. ‘How are you today.’

Molly eyed him suspiciously. ‘I’m very well, thank-you. Is there something that I can do for you gentlemen?’

‘Loitering is frowned upon in these parts,’ the guard said.

‘Loitering? I’m just walking down the street. I’m not causing any trouble.’ Molly hoped like hell they wouldn’t search him. He hadn’t taken the time yet to do his research on what his rights actually were in Nicodranas, but he sure as shit knew the baker’s dozen he’d just bought from a fucking firbolg would probably be frowned upon.

‘You mind telling us where you’re heading?’

Molly decided to go for something of a Hail Sehanine. ‘The Lavish Chateau,’ he said. The guard stared at him. ‘My mother,’ he explained. ‘She sees a good many clients from her place of business.’ Molly hoped like fuck that Jester’s mother was actually of infernal blood.

‘The Ruby of the Sea has a son,’ the guard repeated, clearly a little incredulous.

‘Well of course she couldn’t spread that news around,’ Molly said, airily. ‘It would ruin her business. I hope that you know better than to spread that news,’ he added, pointedly, hoping very much that he wasn’t just digging himself into a deeper and deeper hole.

‘Of course,’ the guard said. He still looked wary, but he relaxed slightly. ‘I think, then, the best thing to do in these circumstances would be for me to escort you to your mother’s ah...abode, wherein she can deal with you herself.’

Molly tipped his horns. ‘Much obliged,’ he said. He had no idea where the Lavish Chateau actually was, but the guard seemed to (and yeah, _that_ wasn’t surprising), and led the way down the street.

It was about a ten minute walk to the Chateau, by which point Molly was once again dripping with sweat. With an utterly fake confidence, he walked up to the front doors, a “CLOSED” sign hanging across them, and knocked.

After a minute or so, one of the doors inched open, and Molly could see a large, hulking sort of figure. ‘Can I help you?’

‘Ah, yes,’ Molly said. ‘The Ruby’s son, here to see Yasha and...uh Beauregard.’

The door opened fully to reveal a very confused looking minotaur. A half a second after that, Jester appeared at the minotaur’s shoulder, and Molly’s heart resumed beating at its normal speed. ‘Come on, Bluud. You haven’t forgotten dear brother Mollymauk, have you?’ Molly gave Jester a wink of gratitude.

There was a beat of silence. ‘Of course,’ the minotaur said. ‘Come in, young master, your mother has been worried sick about you.’ Bluud spoke in a monotone voice that any guard worth their salt would see as a lie, but clearly Jester’s mother had enough clout around town for them to overlook it.

The door clicked shut.

‘What did you do?’ Jester asked, in a stage whisper.

‘Uh, existing while being a tiefling, I think,’ Molly frowned. It was not entirely a new experience for him, but he had thought that Nicodranas was...well, progressive enough for it not to be an issue. ‘Oh, and buying drugs.’

Beau, who had peered around the corner to see what was going on, snorted with laughter.

‘Here,’ Molly said. He reached into his pocket, and found the metal tin. ‘Present for you.’ He tossed it high in Beau’s direction, and to his surprise, she snatched it out of the air easily.

Beau stared at the tin, and then at Molly. ‘You thought it would be impressive to bring me drugs from my own dealer?’ she asked, frowning. ‘I mean, I’m not complaining, but...Caddy keeps like, the whole town going.’

‘Well if that’s the case, then I’ll take my five gold as payment.’

‘As payment for what?’ Beau pocketed the tin. ‘I got nothing, Molly.’ Molly scowled, and Beau gave a grin. She tossed the tin back. ‘You want, I can show you the best place in town to smoke it. Up by the old Wildmother temple.’

‘Beeeeau,’ Jester said, in a chastising sort of voice. ‘We have a lot of work to do tonight, remember?’ Beau’s face fell, as though she’d forgotten.

‘Oh yeah,’ she said. Molly wondered, briefly, whether or not to mention that he had run into Caleb. It wasn’t as though it was a secret, but at the same time, he kind of wanted to keep the information to himself. There was one thing he did need to say, though.

‘You know, it’s a fucking dick move to leave a note for someone that can’t read,’ he said. ‘I mean, I knew you were an unpleasant asshole, but that’s just low.’

Beau rolled her eyes, and went back down the hallway, shooting a rude gesture over her shoulder. ‘Go fuck yourself, Tealeaf,’ she said.

Molly grinned.  He was pretty sure he was going to have fun in Nicodranas.


	8. Saudade

8 – Saudade

They whiled away the afternoon at the Chateau, before finally – almost reluctantly – making the trip back to the house for preparations. Not that there were a great deal of preparations to be made; there were less than a dozen people coming.

‘Have fun tonight, dears,’ Marion said, giving both Jester and Beau a hug, and a kiss on the cheek. ‘I wish that I could be there.’

‘You can look after us tomorrow when we’re all hungover,’ Beau said, winking. Marion gave her a smile.

‘You’re always welcome any time of day,’ Marion told them, and Beau believed her without question. They generally didn’t come around all that often at night, but if they did it was to help out with security, or behind the bar, or any of the other bits and pieces that needed doing. They didn’t interrupt Marion while she was working.

Beau shook her legs out as she stood. They’d been aching on and off the past few days; hurt when she moved them, or hurt when she didn’t move them. It was frustrating enough that the moment they got home, she popped a couple of painkillers, and evaluated their supply situation.

Jester had spent a fortune at the supermarket the previous afternoon, the majority of which had apparently been spent on novelty hats.

Beau started at a particularly egregious one, covered in large, multi-colored bows. ‘I think it would look wonderful on you,’ Yasha said, in a deadpan sort of voice from the doorway. She wasn’t smiling, but there was a twinkle in her eye.

‘I’ve got a better idea,’ Beau said. She reached up, and put the hat on Yasha’s head.

‘Something for you to take off later,’ Molly quipped. Yasha gave him an annoyed sort of look, that was mirrored by Beau. He absolutely knew, of course, that they hadn’t slept together yet, based on the snide comments he kept making. Whether or not Yasha had volunteered that information, or he had wheedled it out of her, Beau didn’t know, and frankly, she didn’t care. It wasn’t any of his business.

‘Oh hey, you know Yasha, there’s some beer in the garage that we should bring out,’ Beau said, pointedly. She all but dragged Yasha out of the kitchen and to the second fridge in the garage, where there were, in fact, two cartons of beer waiting to be put on ice. There was also a catchall of other paraphernalia, many related to hobbies that either Beau or Jester had tried once, and then never again.

There was an easel set up, with a half-finished painting of a bowl of fruit on it. Yasha frowned. ‘Jester’s?’

Beau shook her head. Jester was way beyond painting random bowls of fruit. ‘She took me along to one of those “drink wine and paint shit” classes. Turns out they’re really fun. After she decided to stop going because they didn’t like how many dicks she painted, I went to a few more. I’m not very good.’ Her bowl of fruit looked a little like it had spent too much time in the sun. That was maybe because she had been several glasses of red deep by the time she’d gotten around to painting it.

‘I think it looks very nice,’ Yasha said, and Beau knew she was being mollified, but for some reason, she didn’t mind it from Yasha.

‘Well,’ Beau shrugged. ‘If you ever feel like coming along to get drunk and paint stuff, let me know.’

‘Not your family’s wine, I’m assuming?’ Yasha asked, wryly. Beau laughed. Yeah, the Nicodranas Community Center was definitely not in the practice of purchasing fifty gold bottles of wine for their free art classes.

Beau was perfectly happy, though, to let her friends drink fifty gold a bottle wine at a welcome party for her girlfriend, though even “girlfriend” felt like a stretch sometimes (and really, mixing drinks seemed like a recipe for a bad night). She didn’t think that Yasha was trying to be distant on purpose – after all, it was her first time in a place that was very different from Xhorhas – but she seemed very...reactive to the whole situation. Though, Beau supposed if she was in a place she’d never been before, she’d probably be the same. Not that there’d been a lot of time for exploring the city in Xhorhas.

‘Anyway,’ Beau continued. ‘I have the next couple of days off, so if there’s anything that you’re interested in doing, let me know.’

Yasha seemed to hesitate. ‘I will let you know,’ she said, finally, which was, admittedly, more of an answer than Beau had expected. ‘I think...the art class would be nice,’ she added. Beau raised an eyebrow.

‘Uh, sure,’ she said, mildly startled. ‘I think there’s one on tomorrow. I can check the website later tonight.’

They took the cartons of beer up onto the deck where Jester had strung about a zillion fairy lights. A cooler full of ice was waiting for them.

‘Just how many people are you expecting?’ Yasha asked, frowning.

‘Uh...not too many,’ Beau said, following the other woman’s gaze. She was staring at the cooler. ‘They’re mostly pretty seasoned drinkers, though. I don’t know about you, but I can put away a fair few. And Veth, man, she’s tiny, but she can out-drink a sailor.’ Yasha’s frown deepened at the analogy.

‘Sailors tend to drink a lot,’ Beau explained.

‘I was in the military,’ Yasha said, patiently. ‘I know how much sailors can drink.’

‘Oh.’ The silence that followed was more than a little awkward. Beau had known, of course, that Yasha had been in the military. She didn’t know any details other than that, but she knew that much. Yasha’s background was a great big question mark, and no matter how much Beau tried to pry, it remained in question. ‘I’m gonna go, uh...set up the grill,’ Beau said. ‘Maybe see if Jester wants some help with salads.’ She rushed off before Yasha even had a chance to answer, figuring that a bit of distance would probably be good for them.

It was especially stupid, considering they’d just spent almost six months apart. But Beau was finding that her interactions with Yasha had become more strained, less _easy_ than they had been in Xhorhas, and it wasn’t even just her injuries, because she’d been injured in Xhorhas (moreso, even).

It was just….frustrating.

…

Yasha took a sip of her drink.

So far, things had gone okay. There weren’t many people here yet, and if Beau were to be believe, there weren’t that many more coming. Yasha got the impression that Beau had sensed Yasha’s discomfort at the idea of a large group, and planned accordingly. Even still, it was daunting meeting so many of Beau’s friends at once.

‘This is Veth,’ Beau presented a dark-skinned halfling woman, with long hair braided into plaits. She had a large can of beer in her left hand. ‘She and her husband Yeza run the pharmacy.’

‘Nice to meet you,’ Veth said. She held out a stubby-fingered hand that was absolutely covered in rings. Even her overalls were covered in buttons. ‘I can’t believe Beau finally found someone that would tolerate her.’

‘Uh...’ Yasha did not know what to say to that.

‘She’s joking,’ Beau clarified. ‘Also...keep an eye on your wallet.’ Beau gave Veth a glare, and Veth shied backwards, looking a little abashed.

‘She’s really good friends with Caleb,’ Beau continued. They both watched as Veth climbed on top of the cooler, and began rummaging through the bowls on the snack table. ‘Something about helping him escape prison. I don’t know, I forget the story.’

Yasha raised an eyebrow. Whether or not that was true, she didn’t know, but she didn’t buy for a second that Beau had forgotten it.

‘Caleb,’ she said. ‘He’s the one from the library, yes?’

‘Yeah,’ Beau nodded. ‘I think I saw him hiding somewhere.’ They hunted around for a few minutes, before finding Caleb in the kitchen with Molly, deep in conversation. _That_, more than anything, surprised Yasha. Molly was usually the life of the party, and he had been suspiciously absent the entire evening.

As they entered, Molly gave a look that said, “Please fuck off,” a look that usually meant he was in the middle of some serious flirting, so Yasha took an aghast looking Beau by the shoulder, and directed her back outside.

‘That’s insane,’ Beau muttered. ‘Caleb’s...I mean, he’s not frigid or anything, but I never would’ve expected him to even give someone like Molly the time of day.’

Yasha gave a small smile. Molly tended to surprise a lot of people. He was a surprising sort of person. After all, Yasha had never intended to ever see him again after the first time, let alone become best friends with him.

They were interrupted by the appearance of an elven woman, not all that much taller than Beau. She hadn’t seen them yet, but Beau had clearly seen her, because this time, she was the one that grabbed Yasha by the arm, and pulled her around the corner.

‘Oh, shit.’ Beau stared. ‘I told Dairon to come, but I didn’t actually expect her to show _up_.’ Beau looked worried.

‘I can hear you, Beauregard,’ came a voice.

_Fuck_, Beau mouthed. She put on a fake-looking smile, and pulled Yasha back around the corner. ‘Hey there, Dairon.’

‘For a moment I thought perhaps you were trying to avoid me,’ Dairon said, in the shrewd sort of voice that suggested she had absolutely seen Beau pull Yasha around the corner.

‘Dairon, this is Yasha, Yasha, Dairon.’ The elf gave Yasha a once-over, and her eyes narrowed. Yasha didn’t know exactly how much Beau had told Dairon, but it did not seem a very complementary look.

‘From Xhorhas?’ Dairon asked, coolly.

‘Yes.’ Yasha decided not to elaborate. There was only one reason people tended to ask that question.

‘She saved my life there,’ Beau added, pointedly, but the words seem to go unheeded.

‘Did you serve?’ Dairon asked, and that was an even _more_ loaded question; military service was mandatory in Xhorhas. Or at least it had been, prior to the ceasefire. The elf clearly knew this, and, more to the point, clearly knew that Yasha had been well into adulthood during the ceasefire. Yasha didn’t know anyone that had managed to get out of it aside from Molly, and his circumstances were unique.

‘Yes,’ Yasha says, shortly. There was a moment of almost tense silence. ‘I was a field medic in the Cit—around Asarius, mostly.’ Dairon seemed to loosen a bit. The City of Beasts – or, Asarius, as most people called it – was far enough away from the front line that Yasha hadn’t seen too much fighting. At least not until…

Even that little bit had been far too much. ‘Yourself?’

‘Operational intelligence,’ Dairon said, after a moment’s consideration. ‘Out of Zadash.’

‘I hate to interrupt,’ said Beau, who sounded all too happy to interrupt. ‘But seeing as how the war’s been over for a good few years, and we’re on the Menagerie Coast, maybe we can lighten up a little?’

Dairon straightened a little, clearly a little embarrassed at her own behavior. ‘ Seven a.m tomorrow,’ she told Beau, who grumbled in assent.

‘That is your trainer?’ Yasha asked, after Dairon left. Beau nodded. ‘She is...intense.’

‘Yeah, just a little. They’re alright, though.’ A pause. ‘I didn’t know you were a field medic.’

‘Is it a problem?’ Yasha was talking as much about being apart of the war as she was being a field medic.

Beau shook her head. ‘It was a stupid war on both sides. I just...I didn’t know.  I guess that’s why you did such a good job keeping me alive. ’ She frowned. ‘There’s a lot about you that I don’t really know.’

‘I could say the same,’ Yasha said, and Beau shrugged.

‘I mean, I don’t know what there is to know. What you see is what you get.’ She scratched the back of her head, where the hair was shaved to stubble. Somehow, Yasha didn’t quite believe that. Beau had more layers than she would ever care to admit. But, once more, to ask about them, would be to open herself up to questioning, and…

Yasha wanted to. She wanted nothing more than to be able to give Beau everything, and yet…And yet she couldn’t. She didn’t even know why; it was nothing that Beau had done wrong, it was just…

Frustrating, is what it was. Frustrating as much because Beau clearly wanted more, and Yasha had no idea when she’d be ready to give it. She didn’t say it, hadn’t complained, or asked for more, or anything like that, but there were certain expectations that came along with visiting from half-way across the world. Expectations that Yasha wanted so desperately to be able to fulfil.

She looked over, and watched what seemed to be a very deep conversation between Fjord and Jester, the latter of whom had not touched a drop of beer, and had instead been downing glasses of milk all night. Dairon had been hailed by Veth, and seemed to be keeping a very close watch on her personal belongings as they spoke.

‘So, this is...the gang,’ Beau said. ‘I mean, there are other people around town; you’ll probably meet a few if you come to a softball game, but...you know, these are the people in my life.’

‘Thank-you for introducing me,’ Yasha said, sincerely. ‘I am glad that you have so many people that care for you so much.’

Beau shrugged. ‘I mean, it wasn’t always like this. Only since coming to Nicodranas, and even then.’ She stopped, suddenly disinclined to discuss the matter further. ‘Do you, uh...want to find somewhere a little more private?’

Yasha didn’t answer immediately, but apparently her hesitation was enough for Beau to get the message.

‘Alright,’ she said, sounding a little disappointed. ‘Oh, hey, here’s Caleb.’ Yasha looked up to see the red-haired man coming towards them.

‘_Entschuldigung_,’ he said, seemingly speaking to Yasha, instead of Beau. ‘Forgive me, Miss Yasha, I was caught up in conversation with your dear friend Mollymauk and have not yet had the pleasure. My name is Caleb Widogast.’

He spoke with a slight Zemnian accent. Interesting to find, on the Menagerie Coast. ‘It’s very nice to meet you,’ Yasha said.

‘How about I leave you two to chat for a bit,’ Beau said, and Yasha wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or not, but Beau’s voice sounded a little strained. Before she could say anything, though, Beau had run off to talk to join Jester and Fjord’s conversation.

‘Ah…’

‘It is okay,’ Caleb said, with a small smile. ‘I am not much one for lengthy conversations either, so we do not have to talk too much if you do not want to.’

‘You and Mollymauk,’ Yasha started, stuttering slightly.

‘Ah, yes, your charming purple friend.’

‘Yes, he is...that. I hope he wasn’t bothering you.’ Caleb looked amused at the insinuation.

‘Ah, no, he was not bothering me. He is a very interesting person.’

‘That he is,’ Yasha agreed.

They did not seem to have much in common to sustain a lengthy conversation, but that suited both of them fine. When their topics (and their will to converse) had run dry, they parted ways amicably.

Things started to die down around ten o’clock. Dairon had long gone, and Caleb had left not long after that. Both Fjord and Veth had an early start the next morning, which just left Beau, Jester, Molly and Yasha.

Beau, to Yasha’s surprise, was the first to go to bed. ‘Kinda tired,’ she said, in a voice that definitely sounded tired, but also sounded a little sad.

‘Is everything okay?’ Yasha asked, frowning.

‘Yeah, it’s just my pins are aching.’ Beau gestured towards her legs. ‘I might go to bed.’ She leaned forward as though to press a kiss to Yasha’s cheek, but veered away at the last second, merely putting a hand to the shoulder. Then, without a backwards glance, she went to her room.

Yasha couldn’t quite help but stare after her, feeling just a little bit like an asshole.


	9. Calm Before the Storm

9 – Calm Before the Storm

At six a.m the next morning, Beau pulled herself out of bed, groaning. At least, small favors, it was six a.m, and not five. Apparently even Dairon liked to sleep in sometimes.

Beau didn’t bothered to wake anyone on her way out; they had all been up late enough, and had drunk enough that a few members of the household would no doubt be nursing hangovers. Her legs were still aching, badly enough that she vaguely considered calling in, but Dairon wouldn’t look too kindly on that. At the very least, it would get her a beleaguered sigh, and a disdainful look.

At this time of morning, the roads were mostly quiet. There were a few surfers heading out to take advantage of the early morning waves, not to mention some joggers making their way along the Esplanade.

A dark sort of cloud was hanging over Beau’s head, for what felt like the hundredth time that week. She tried to ignore it.

Usually, after an hour or so of lifting, and punching, and running, there was enough adrenaline pumping through her system that she could sort of ignore it. That twenty minutes or so before the warm-up started, that was a real bitch to get through.

Coffee helped, but not nearly enough; by the time she’d been on the rower for five minutes, she was already falling asleep. Not even the pain that shot along her bones at semi-random intervals was enough to pierce the veil of fatigue and listlessness. 

It took until the second last set of leg presses for Beau to feel fully awake, and her blood was pumping enough that the slump had eased somewhat. 

‘One more set,’ Dairon said, and Beau couldn’t help but groan.

‘If you did not wish to work, then perhaps you should not have gone on a reckless trip on the other side of the world and almost died,’ the elf said, in a dry sort of voice. According to Fjord, Dairon had almost dropped everything and come over to Xhorhas herself, when she’d heard that Beau had been in an accident. Only being unable to take time off work had stopped her from doing so. So Beau didn’t take her comments too seriously.

Really, she should have been flattered, but her feelings towards Dairon were less than charitable at the moment, even though she knew that in six months, she’d probably be thanking the elf for her diligence. 

Even still, the laundry list of minor criticisms as they sparred was a little too much for Beau to deal with in her current mood. ‘You’re dropping your guard.’

‘I know,’ Beau muttered, raising her gloved fists back up to her head, just in time to deflect a jab to the nose. She dodged out of the way of Dairon’s clinch, and countered with an admittedly reckless foot sweep that was rightfully scoffed at.

The nicest thing that Beau could have said about the sparring session was that she didn’t get her ass kicked, and even that was only because Dairon was very seriously pulling their punches.

‘Good work today,’ Dairon said, when they finally finished up around nine o’clock. Beau made a sound of disbelief that did not go unnoticed, nor uncommented on. ‘You are improving, even if it is difficult for you to see right now. Slow progress is still progress.’

Beau gave a casual sort of wave that hopefully also gave the message of “I don’t believe a word that you’re saying,” and left to hit the showers.

There was a message on her phone from Yasha, that simply said, “Meet for brunch?” to which Beau sent a quick reply in the affirmative, and the directions to a local cafe that usually did a pretty good spread. Then, she took a long shower to clean off the sweat, blood, and maybe, hopefully, a little bit of the funk.

Even still, Beau felt vastly under-dressed, when Yasha showed up in a tank-top and jeans, long dark hair braided down her back. Okay, maybe that was just Beau’s lesbian goggles getting the better of her.

Yasha leaned down to give Beau a kiss, and there was the vaguest hint of a floral scent playing around her neck and shoulders. ‘Mmm, you smell nice.’ Beau closed her eyes. ‘Like flowers.’

Yasha frowned slightly, ans sniffed the air. ‘You smell like...soap.’

Beau grinned. ‘Better than the alternative.’

‘How was your workout?’

‘Eh.’ Beau shrugged. ‘Could have been worse.’ At the very least, she was already starting to feel pleasantly sore, and had that insatiable hunger that only a good workout could bring. Consequently, she ordered far more bacon than was probably wise, and earned a few concerned looks from nearby patrons. Dairon was always on her to eat less carbs. If that meant eating more bacon, then Beau wasn’t going to complain.

Brunch was nice. They talked a bit about working out, a conversation that had somehow never come up before, and Beau made a mental note that next time she should bring Yasha along to the gym. Maybe the adrenaline, coupled with skin-tight workout clothes would get a little something going. Yasha was, to no surprised, very big into lifting weights, no pun intended. Beau had figured that out from the size of he biceps, and the fact that she looked like she could crush a watermelon with her thighs. Beau made a mental note that they would have to test that out one day.

After brunch, they went for a walk down the Esplanade. They were just barely into summer, and already, the tourist rush had started. For the next three months, there would be hundreds of strangers around town, overcrowding the beaches, and littering the sidewalks. The house and the Chateau at least were far enough away from the town center that they didn’t get as much of that.

Even still, there were a decent number of shops and businesses clustered around the town square; the pharmacy, the post office, the library. They were walking past Caduceus’s tea shop (Beau had half a thought to go in and stock up on some stuff) when Beau saw the bike.

At first, she’d thought it was just parked, but the piece of cardboard taped to the side, reading “4 SALE, 2000 GOLD,” with a phone number underneath.

‘Holy shit,’ Beau murmured.

It was a gorgeous looking bike. A bit of a fixer-upper, for sure, but no worse than any of the other bikes that Beau had ridden. At two thousand gold, though, it wasn’t exactly expensive, but still well outside Beau’s price range. Her price range was ten gold, and a roll of duct tape.

The bike was a bright, brilliant blue crotch rocket, with a few scuffs and dings in the paint, but it looked reasonably well maintained. Beau had seen a lot of bikes that were spic and span on the outside, but couldn’t run worth a damn.

‘You want to take it for a test ride?’ Yasha asked. Beau hesitated. She hadn’t so much as touched a motorbike since returning from Xhorhas, but the longer she left it, the harder it would eventually be to do it again. But, the owner didn’t seem to be around, and Beau didn’t particularly feel like waiting calling someone about a bike she had no intention of buying. It was a pity, though. She ran a hand along the body, wistfully, and snapped a photo, just in case she changed her mind later. 

Where the fuck she would get two thousand gold, though, was anyone’s guess.

…

Molly woke late, and once again, found the house empty. How the fuck he’d managed to find his way into the midst of people that got up so  _early_ was a mystery. He’d been moderately coathangered upon going to bed, and woke up not so moderately hungover. There was a vague memory of going shot to shot with Jester, only all of Jester’s shots had been milk.

This time, at least, there was no note on his horns, and, disappointingly, no breakfast waiting for him. He dug through the cupboard for cereal, ignoring the increasing feeling of vibration in his pants.

Then, he realized it was his phone.

‘Hello?’

‘Ja, _hello, it is Caleb_.’

‘Ah, sorry, I thought you might’ve been a dildo.’

‘...was?’ Molly realized suddenly that he almost definitely hadn’t told Caleb what he did for a living.

‘Uh, bad joke that is probably funnier with context.’ Molly cringed. ‘What can I do for you?’

‘_I know it is late notice, but there is a Bookfest on today at the Nicodranas Convention __Hall_.’ Caleb spoke all of these words very fast, and then paused. ‘_Would you like to ah...go to the Bookfest with me_?’

‘You’re asking_ me_ out?’ Molly asked, incredulous. He almost dropped his phone in excitement.

‘_Of course, I understand if you do not want—_’

‘No, I want, I want, I just...Man, I was trying to take it nice and slow, and you go ahead and get in first.’

There was another pause.

‘_You do not have to come to Bookfest_.’

Molly grinned in spite of himself. ‘No, no. I’m definitely coming to Bookfest. Where can I meet you?’

‘_It is a bit of a way – I can come and pick you up._’

‘You know, accepting a ride on the first date sends a message, right?’

There was another long pause, and Molly could have hit himself. Maybe this wasn’t even a date. Maybe he was being really weird. ‘Caleb?’

‘_I’m sorry, my Common is...lacking. I was trying to find the right words to say...ah…I think you have already made your message very clear. I am reciprocating_.’

Oh.

_Oh._

Was this a power play? Was he winning or losing? Molly had no idea, but he was kind of enjoying it. 

It would be a refreshing change not being the one doing all the heavy lifting.

…

Beau returned to the house in a much better mood than she had left it.

Dairon was at least acknowledging the progress she’d made, and she’d had a really nice brunch with Yasha. She’d seen a cool bike, and laughed at some seagulls that tried to steal a toddler’s ice-cream.

More importantly, they had a (drunkenly booked) three o’clock appointment at the Nicodranas Community  Center to participate in a Painting and Drinking session. Beau was pretty sure that Yasha was interested, but it was hard to tell sometimes. In any case, she was off taking photos of the beach, for now, and had promised to return in time to walk to the Community  Center .

Inside, Molly was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the wall.

‘What are you doing?’

‘Waiting for Caleb,’ Molly said, in a disbelieving sort of voice. ‘He’s taking me to Bookfest.’

Beau was about to make a comment about why the fuck a person who couldn’t read was going to Bookfest, but then the first part of the statement hit her. ‘Wait, with  _Caleb?_ ’

‘Yeah.’ Molly grinned. ‘_He_ called me. Weird, right?’

‘I’ll say,’ Beau muttered. Romantic trysts weren’t something Beau talked with Caleb about that much, but she knew he had some sort of painful romantic past. Nothing that was her business to bring up, though. ‘Well, good luck, a—buddy.’ 

Molly looked surprised at her comment. ‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘You know, you’re not nearly as unpleasant as the first impression you give. But then again, that’s a pretty high bar.’ Beau gave him a grin, and a rude gesture, which he returned. It was practically their thing, now.

Caleb came in his three decade old rust-colored station wagon, and purposefully avoided Beau’s gaze in the brief time he was in the house. 

Molly was still grinning as he left.

…

‘Get some good shots in?’ Beau asked, when Yasha returned almost an hour later, an almost serene look on her face. Yasha looked a little startled by the question.

‘I took photos of the beach, and some flowers in the dunes,’ she said. ‘No storms, unfortunately.’ She gave a sad sort of smile. For all that Nicodranas was usually a hotbed of thunderous activity, the weather had been surprisingly clear. Storms had been forecast, and yet failed to materialize. It was beginning to feel a little like false advertising.

‘Maybe tomorrow,’ Beau mused, looking out the window. All she could see was blue, but that didn’t mean much. This was a place where the skies could go from blue to black in the space of half an hour.

Over the course of the afternoon, the sky stayed that bright, brilliant blue. Their walk to the Community Center was a pleasant one, the perfect amount of warmth soaking into the skin. Just for fun, Beau did some free-running through the gardens that surrounded the Community Center, earning her a small grin from Yasha.

‘That was very impressive,’ Yasha said, in a deadpan sort of voice. ‘Aren’t you worried you may break another bone?’ Beau waved off the thought. Not that she wasn’t worried, but she wasn’t about to go through life in a padded jacket “just in case.”

They had a pretty good time at the Community Center, Beau thought. She painted a truly atrocious picture of their instructor, and, more importantly, drank a decent amount of shitty wine. Yasha, on the other hand, drank a little bit, and painted a pretty nice bowl of flowers. She had a good eye for color, which made sense, seeing as how she had to think about that sort of thing for a living.

After they were done, Yasha had a pensive sort of look on her face.

‘Everything okay?’ Beau asked. Yasha didn’t answer straight away. Instead, she was looking at the flowers. ‘They look really nice, if that’s what you’re worried about.’

‘It’s not.’ Yasha shook her head, and, finally, jerked her gaze away. She smiled. ‘Thank-you for bringing me here, Beau. I had a really good time.’

Beau decided that for her, that was enough.

…

Mollymauk stared.

He was pretty good at not staring at things; he was too used to other people staring at  _him_ to not want to inflict it on others, but given that this was an inanimate object, he figured it could handle it.

It wasn’t a big canvas. Probably not much bigger than a standard piece of paper, but the crudely painted picture was of a bowl of flowers. Innocuous, perhaps, to anyone that didn’t know that Yasha detested flowers.

Actually, that wasn’t quite true.

She didn’t detest flowers. She detested the fact that flowers reminded her of her late wife. The one time that Molly had even  _tried _ bringing home flowers, he’d found the vase smashed on the kitchen floor, and the flowers themselves in the trash.

He didn’t buy flowers after that.

‘Hey, Beau,’ he called out, to where Beau was standing in front of the fridge, drinking milk out of the carton. ‘Did you paint this?’

‘No, Yasha did,’ Beau said. She put the milk back, and dug around for leftovers. ‘She had a really good time, I think.’

‘I’ll bet,’ Molly murmured to himself. ‘Did she say where she was going?’

‘Uh...going to take more photos around town, I think. What about you and Caleb?’ Beau asked. Molly’s head shot up.

‘What?’

‘You were going to the Bookfest, right?’

‘Right,’ Molly said. ‘I mean, it was okay, but he only really wanted to look at books.’

Beau frowned. ‘You were at the Bookfest.’

‘Yeah, and?’

‘What else did you think you were gonna do?’ Beau seemed to catch herself just in time. ‘You know what, don’t answer that. I don’t want to know.’

‘It was nice,’ Molly said. ‘We looked at books, then we looked at more books, and then we bought some books, some of which I may actually have a chance of reading. Caleb had a good time. I...didn’t have a terrible time. So tell me more about the flowers.’

‘What do you mean?’ Beau frowned. ‘Yasha likes flowers, that’s not exactly a secret. She told me like...the first time we had a full conversation.’

Molly stared at her.

‘The entire time I’ve known her, Yasha has associated flowers with the memory of her dead wife,’ he said, bluntly. Beau stared, her mouth open slightly. Too late, Molly realized that perhaps Beau didn’t know about Zuala. That maybe Yasha hadn’t quite figured out a way to tell her. Then he remembered a very explicit conversation with Yasha, that had maybe sort of gone “Do not tell Beau about Zuala.” Now, with the almost horrified look on Beau’s face, he was starting to realize why.

‘Oh,’ Beau said, and it was in a soft, and broken, and painful sort of voice that Molly had never heard before. She cast her gaze downwards, and left the kitchen without a word.

_Fuck_ .

_FUCK._


	10. What's Past is Prologue

10 – What’s Past is Prologue

‘Beau, wait!’ If you’d told Molly even twenty-four hours ago that he’d be running after Beau to stop her from leaving the house, well...he would’ve been very confused. ‘Wait, let me explain.’

‘What is there to explain, Molly?’ Beau asked. There were tears in her eyes, and a backpack slung over one shoulder. ‘Does Yasha have a dead wife or not?’

‘I really think that’s her story to explain.’

‘And yet she didn’t bother.’ Molly had the sudden sinking realization that anything he did would only make things worse.

‘Please, don’t go anywhere. Just...wait until she gets home. She made me promise not to tell you.’ Okay, that was definitely the wrong thing to say. Beau choked back a sob, and cast her gaze downwards.

‘I’m going out for a while,’ Beau muttered. ‘If Yasha asks where I am...’ He almost expected her to say something vulgar, but it was worse than that. She didn’t say anything. She trailed off, and simply walked out the door.

...

‘_Please don’t be mad._’ 

Yasha blinked. She was covered from head to toe in sand, after having failed to successfully climb a dune, and had just finished dusting off her camera lens when the phone rang.

Whenever Molly opened a phone conversation with those words, it was a fair indication she wasn’t going to like what came next. Like the time he had accidentally saved over an entire hard-drive of shots with episodes of  _The Golden Girls_ .

‘You know I can’t promise that, Molly.’

Whatever it was that Yasha had expected Molly to confess to was nowhere near as bad as the confession that he actually made.

‘_I may have accidentally told Beau about Zuala_.’

Yasha’s heart dropped. Before she even realized what was happening, she was yelling. ‘I told you one fucking thing, Molly. One _ fucking _ thing that I need to break to her gently, and you go and tell her? What the fuck!’ She could vaguely hear Molly on the other end, trying to...trying to do something. She wasn’t quite sure what, on account of the fact that she didn’t give him time to explain. She had already hung up, and was dialing Beau’s number.

‘_Yo, this is Beau, living in the mo. You know what to do._’

Shit.

The phone hadn’t even rung, which meant that Beau had turned it off. Not the first time Beau had turned off her phone when she didn’t want to talk to someone. Yasha decided to leave a message anyway.

‘It’s Yasha.’ A pause. She didn’t know what she was supposed to say. _Sorry you had to find out about my wife from Molly_. ‘I, uh…need to talk to you about...what Molly told you. I’m sorry…that I didn’t tell you. Please call me.’

Yasha tried to call three more times in the space of five minutes, each call resulting in the same voicemail message.

Shoving her camera back in its case, and her phone into her bra, Yasha ran back to the house. She’d never really been one for running, but today, walking wasn’t an option. She had to get to Beau, to say...say  _something_ before it was too late.

She couldn’t lose someone else.

…

The first thing that Yasha did after lambasting Molly was call Jester. If there was anyone that would know where Beau would run off to when she was upset, it was her best friend.

For what felt like an eternity, Yasha sat at the kitchen table, staring at the wall. When she jerked back to reality, she realized that not only was Jester and Molly there, but also Fjord and Veth, the halfling woman she had met the previous evening.

‘Now, why exactly did Beau run off?’ Fjord was asking. Yasha didn’t move to say anything, until she realized that the question was directed at her. She hadn’t even given Jester a proper explanation, and the tiefling was looking at her in askance.

‘It is...a long story,’ she said. But, she realized, without the full context, she was going to look like a shitty person. Perhaps she would look like a shitty person anyway. ‘When I was...very young, I was married. We were together for some time before she was...killed during the war. It is something that I still struggle with daily, and I have been struggling to find the right way to bring the subject up with Beau. And then...’

‘And then I opened my mouth,’ Molly said, helpfully. He had the good grace to look ashamed when he added, ‘Sorry again. Now Beau’s run off somewhere, and we need to find her.’

Jester, for her part, looked shocked. Fjord and Veth looked worried. 

‘I, uh...hate to play Devil’s advocate,’ Fjord said. There was a lot of hesitation in his voice. ‘But does anyone else think it might be best just to let Beau cool off for a bit; I mean, she’s an adult, it’s not as though she’s in any danger by running off.’

Jester gave him a look. ‘You know, Fjord, for someone so handsome and intelligent, you can really be an idiot sometimes.’ Fjord looked suddenly startled, then abashed. ‘I think we both know how well Beau can hold a grudge. If Yasha doesn’t go to her as soon as possible, then every bad thought that’s going through Beau’s head is going to stay there.’ Yasha was glad that Jester was able to put into words what she couldn’t.

There was not a chance in the world that Yasha would even think of letting Beau run off without at least trying to explain herself. Otherwise, whatever time Beau spend brooding, she would be thinking the worst.

‘Well in that, case,’ Fjord said. ‘I think we should split up.’

‘You go with Jester,’ Veth said, immediately. ‘I can take Yasha and Molly.’ A strange moment of awkward silence passed, with Jester and Veth exchanging a look that Yasha couldn’t quite comprehend, but she assumed had something to do with the unresolved tensions between Jester and Fjord. ‘You know I can’t stand Fjord, and Yasha doesn’t deserve having to be saddled with him.’

Fjord rolled his eyes, but didn’t say anything. Yasha frowned, but got the impression that this was how interactions between the two generally seemed to go. That, plus she was pretty sure the halfling was making sure that the tiefling and the half-orc got some alone time.

That left Yasha, Molly and Veth squeezing into Veth’s car, which was almost certainly not built for people Yasha’s size.

‘You’re very large,’ Veth said, peering over at Yasha. It was not the first time Yasha had heard such a thing, and she was sure it wouldn’t be the last. It was just one of those things that people seemed to think was a compliment.

‘Yes.’

‘I think Beau is quite fond of large women. Her last two girlfriends were _very_ muscular.’

Yasha gave her a look. ‘I don’t know how I’m supposed to respond to that.’

‘I think she likes...’ Veth lowered her voice conspiratorially. ‘...being manhandled.’ Then, in a normal voice. ‘Y’know. In bed.’ In the backseat, Molly hid his laughter with a cough.

‘Thanks for the heads up,’ Yasha said, wryly. It wouldn’t matter at all if she couldn’t find Beau, and explain herself. A strange, sweet smell caught her nose, and she just barely noticed Veth putting a flask in her pocket. ‘Are you drunk?’

‘I’m _buzzed_,’ Veth said, and though there was no slur to her words, Yasha wasn’t entirely convinced. 

‘Are you sure you’re okay to drive? I can drive, if you need me to.’ She wasn’t entirely on board with the idea of Veth driving in this state. Luckily, Veth seemed to agree.

‘That’s probably a good idea.’ Veth slammed the keys into Yasha’s hand, and maneuvered herself into the passenger’s seat as soon as it was empty. She hadn’t even bothered to get out of the car.

Yasha drove slowly, and methodically, for two reasons; firstly, she was pretty sure her license wasn’t valid in Nicodranas, and she didn’t want to get pulled over. Secondly, she wanted Veth to be able to catch any signs of Beau’s presence as they drove.

They went to the library first, then along the Esplanade. Jester and Fjord were headed to the beach, and then the gym and the Lavish Chateau. The truth was, Yasha had no idea where Beau would be. She didn’t know Nicodranas nearly well enough to know the sort of places that Beau went when she was upset. She was a little surprised to find that Jester didn’t actually know either, because Beau, to no-one’s surprise, tended to avoid anyone and anything while she was upset.

By the time the sun had well and truly set, they hadn’t come any closer to finding Beau. They had stopped along the Esplanade, and spoken to Caduceus, and Veth’s husband, Yeza. Or rather, Veth and Molly had done the talking, while Yasha had hung back, pacing. She had called Beau five more times in the interim, each time met with the same result.

_Isn’t that what madness is? Doing the same thing over and over again, and expecting different results?_ Yasha told the voice in her head to go away. It was Zuala’s voice. It had been Zuala’s voice for so long, until...until it wasn’t. Now, it was back again.

As darkness overtook Nicodranas, it got harder and harder to search. Yasha was sure they’d cross the same streets a dozen times, to no avail. If Beau had actually  _left_ Nicodranas, then they’d never find her. That was an eventuality that Yasha did not want to consider. 

Eventually, they gave up.

Not gave up, actually. Yasha hated the idea of giving up. They decided to call it an evening, and continue looking in the morning. Perhaps by then Beau would have cooled down a little and decided she wanted to talk. Though, if Molly’s account was anything to go by, she hadn’t even been angry, just...numb. Yasha didn’t know which was worse. Anger, at least, would fade.

It was well past nine o’clock by the time they reconvened at the house. Jester, who had looked worried before, was now near inconsolable. Fjord had put his arm around her, and she hadn’t even seemed to realize.

‘She’s not at the Chateau,’ Jester told them, in between sobs. ‘I spoke to Bluud, but I didn’t want to interrupt Momma, because she’s performing tonight. You guys, what if she got hurt and is lying around somewhere, crying for help.’

‘Thinking about the worst possible outcome isn’t going to help us.’ Yasha had expected this from Fjord, but she was surprised to realize that it was Molly talking. ‘We need to get some sleep, and start out again in the morning. Maybe even talk to the Zolezzo.’

Yasha wanted to argue, but from the looks on peoples’ faces, she suspected that the only support she would have would be from Jester, who was not necessarily a role model for ideal decision making.

She went to bed immediately, rationalizing at least that, the sooner she went to bed, the sooner she would wake up and be able to keep looking. 

It had been a reasonably good plan, scuppered by the fact that Yasha could not sleep. Every time she closed her eyes, she was overcome with the horrible possibilities of what could have happened. It was silly, she knew. Fjord was right, in a way; Beau was an adult, and was certainly capable enough to spend a night away from home. Yasha got the mild impression that she had done so more than once even before becoming an adult, and not always by choice.

Yasha always slept fitfully, and this time was no different. She woke up from a nightmare around three a.m, and it took several minutes of hushed reassurance from Molly to calm her down.

‘You’re okay,’ he said. ‘We’ll find her.’

Yasha didn’t ask how he knew she’d been dreaming about Beau.


	11. Eye of the Hurricane

11 – Eye of the Hurricane

Molly was jerked awake at two o’clock in the morning by Yasha screaming Beau’s name.

It wasn’t the first time that Yasha had woken him with her nightmares. It wasn’t even the second, or the tenth, or the hundredth. Since they’d known each other, Y asha had had nightmares three or four times a week, something that even regular therapy sessions had been unable to mitigate.

The first time he’d ever heard Zuala’s name was when Yasha had screamed it one night after what had apparently been a particularly violent flashback.

This was the first time he’d ever heard her scream Beau’s name. He wasn’t sure whether or not that was progress.

In any case, he got her calmed down again, but she wasn’t all that interested in sleeping, instead preferring to let her mind wander to the worst-case scenario.

‘She’ll be fine,’ Molly reassured Yasha. ‘We’ll find her in the morning, okay?’ He didn’t mentioned how guilty he felt that it had been his own bone-headed mistake that had caused this whole situation.

Finally, around four o’clock, Yasha managed to drift back into sleep. Once he was satisfied that she wasn’t faking it, Molly lay back down, and closed his eyes.

Of course sleep didn’t come.

Fucking typical.

…

Just after dawn, everyone was already awake.

There had been no phone calls from anyone that they’d asked to keep an eye out, and Beau’s phone still went straight to voicemail. Molly was sure that the message box would probably be full by now.

Jester was worried enough to call her mother, who she hadn’t wanted to bother the previous evening. Molly left the room for that conversation. His guilt was already bad enough, and it got worse when the phone rang. Being the closest to it, Molly answered.

‘_This is Caleb_.’ Molly frowned. He wasn’t sure why Caleb was calling the house phone when he had a perfectly functional mobile. ‘_Did Beauregard come back? She has not showed up to work. Zeenoth has asked me to check on her._’

Well that wasn’t good. Molly didn’t know all that much about Beau, but he was pretty sure she was the sort of person that went to work, even if she complained about it.  For that matter, what the fuck kind of library opened at  7 a.m?  Fuck. ‘We haven’t found her yet. Do you think you’d be able to cover?’

‘_Of course_,’ Caleb said, without hesitation. Molly paused.

‘You busy tomorrow?’

‘_Ah, it will depend on whether Beauregard is still missing_.’ Right, right. Don’t get ahead of yourself, Tealeaf. Find the missing dope fiend, then get yourself a date. There was something in that thought that tugged at a memory in the back of his head. Something that Beau had said in an offhand sort of way, the day before yesterday. Right before she’d chucked back his tin of weed.

‘Of course,’ Molly said, only really half listening. ‘Well, I will keep you updated. Thanks for your help Caleb; I’m sure she’s fine, but I’ll let you know.’

‘_Thank-you. Tschüss, Mollymauk_.’

‘Choose to you, too.’ Molly hung up. He didn’t particularly want to mention to Yasha and Jester that Beau hadn’t showed up for work, but not doing so would only cause more issues. As predicted, they were not particularly pleased about the development. 

While he’d been on the phone, a vague plan had come together between Yasha, Jester and Fjord to drive to Port Damali. It was only twenty or so minutes away, and there was the off chance that Beau had gone there to blow off some steam. ‘I want to check a couple more places around here,’ he said. Yasha shot him a look. He was fully aware it sounded like he was trying to get out of looking for Beau, but that couldn’t be helped. If she was where he thought she was, it was pretty likely she didn’t want to be disturbed.

Thankfully, Molly was pretty good at ignoring warning signs like that. He needed to go ahead and fix his mistake before anything got any worse.

…

Molly took Jester’s car. Thankfully, she didn’t ask inconvenient questions like “can you drive?” and they would all be much happier for it.

He _could_ drive of course. Not very well, admittedly, but the place he needed to get to wasn’t all that far away.

Looks, of course, were deceptive.

The cliff looked close, but the roads to get there were windy and ridiculous. He had to double back three or four times before he found himself on a direct course to the old, crumbling Wildmother temple that overlooked Nicodranas.

And parked down by an ancient, withered tree, was Beau’s car.

That was something. It meant that either Beau was there as well, or Beau had gone and done something incredibly drastic. 

Molly very much hoped it was the former.

…

_Fifteen Hours Earlier._

Beau drove.

She didn’t particularly even know where she was driving to, but she needed to just…needed to clear her head. Unfortunately, her head wasn’t quite capable of clearing at this point.

Yasha had a wife.

That was a fucking twist and a half she hadn’t seen coming.

Like, she knew that Yasha had been keeping bits and pieces of her past quiet, but this was different. This was... _fuck_ .

And to find out that Yasha hadn’t even looked at a flower since her wife died. It made Beau feel like...It made her feel like she was nothing more than a replacement for a dead woman. It made her want to get very, very drunk, hence the bottle of cheap, nasty whiskey that she’d grabbed on her way out of the house. There was no point getting drunk on expensive alcohol; it all tasted the same after a few shots anyway. All tasted the same when it came back up in the morning.

Beau hated that she felt so shitty about this. Hated that she was effectively getting pissed at someone for having died. But it was more than that. She’d just thought, for once in her life, that she’d been Yasha’s first choice.

It had been the same with Tori, the same with her parents, hell, even Jester and Marion had taken her in because they felt sorry for her. She’d never been  _anyone’s_ first choice. Never been  _special_ to anyone.

To find out that but for a slight twist of fate, Yasha would be happily married to someone else. It was more than a bit of a gut punch.

After an hour or so of driving mindlessly, Beau went to the one place she knew no-one would come looking for her. She didn’t really feel up to talking to people, lest she see the pity in their eyes.

_Ugh_.

The temple had been around longer than the town. It had been there when the colonists from Port Damali had come around looking for a more easterly port. Even then, it had been abandoned. It was the oldest thing in town by at least a couple of centuries.

Beau stared out over the city.

She loved coming here. More to the point, she loved coming here when she felt a little bit broken, because this was a place that was hundreds of years old, and, thought it was crumbling, and eroded, and covered in vines and ivy, and even though she’d had to chase off a couple of rats before she climbed to the top, she felt like maybe, she could endure too.

With, of course, maybe a bit of help.

...

Beau blinked against the morning sun, streaming in through a gap in the stonework. She had approximately seven hundred rocks sticking into her, and it was a wonder that she had managed to sleep through the night. Though, judging by the roaring headache, the nausea rising in her stomach, and the half-empty bottle in her hand, there was a reason for that.

A horned figure was silhouetted against the light. ‘Hey Jes,’ Beau murmured. She was pretty far beyond embarrassment at the moment, and, admittedly, this was not the worst situation that Jester had ever caught her in.

‘You smell like ass,’ Jester said, only it wasn’t Jester’s voice, it was a male voice that took Beau several seconds to place. _Fuck_. Mollymauk.

Beau rolled over (ow) and vomited.

‘Feel better?’

‘No.’ Beau groaned. She must have been out here all night. That certainly hadn’t been part of the plan. She wasn’t sure what the actual plan had been, but it had not involved falling asleep in a ruin crawling with insects and small rodents.

‘Why the fuck didn’t you sleep in the car?’

‘Because I’m an idiot.’ Beau made no move to get up, or even sit up. Her whole fucking body was aching, from where it had broken apart on the Bazzoxan Pass. Worse still was the pain in her chest, that utter stabbing feeling of betrayal.

‘Well, no arguments here. Jester and Yasha are worried sick about you.’

Beau snorted. Jester, she could buy, but Yasha? The only thing Yasha was worried about was having to find a new replacement. She didn’t realize she’d said that part out loud until Molly gave her a cold sort of look.

‘No offence, Beau – I get that you’re upset – but you clearly don’t have a fucking clue about how Yasha’s feeling right now.’

‘Yeah, that’s the problem. I had to find out she was married from you, because she couldn’t be bothered telling me herself.’

‘And yet your first response to finding out was to run away, refuse to let her explain, and drink yourself stupid in a place where you knew no-one would be looking for you. Forgive me for saying so, but you didn’t even _try_ to be anything except self-loathing about this.’

‘Molly, do you want to know how many times I’ve heard the phrase “please just let me explain” from someone that’s just fucked me over, because it’s a fucking lot.’ There was a moment of silence.

‘Do you want me to call Jester?’

‘Do _not_ call Jester,’ Beau said, finally sitting up. She felt a sudden rush of blood to the head, and a rush of bile to the throat. This time, when she vomited, she didn’t even get a chance to roll over. ‘Fuck. Can you help me up?’

Molly grabbed Beau’s arms, and pulled her to her feet, where she swayed slightly, until he put a steadying arm on her shoulder. ‘You good?’

Beau looked down at her vomit-stained clothes. She was pretty much the fartherest thing from good right now, and if she showed up anywhere like this, then her attempts at avoiding pity weren’t going to go to well. Beau fished her phone out of her pocket (thankfully intact after her less than careful nighttime activities) and turned it on.

She was greeted with well over two dozen missed calls and messages, mostly from Yasha and Jester, but a couple from Caleb, and a couple more from (Beau felt a fresh wave of guilt) Marion.

Beau racked her brains, trying to think of somewhere...neutral that she could go and spend a few hours cleaning up. ‘Is Caleb busy?’

‘He’s covering your shift, so yes.’

_Fuck. _ She had completely forgotten about that whole “going to work” thing. That, she was sure, would come back to bite her. 

Marion was the next best option, but Beau got the idea that Jester would more than likely be at the Chateau than the house.  At the very least, she would call Jester as soon as Beau showed up.

Veth and Fjord and Caduceus were probably all at work, and there was no-one else she really trusted, which left…

Ah, fuck.

‘Can you call Dairon for me?’ Beau asked, closing her eyes against that infernally bright sunlight.

‘Sure,’ Molly said. ‘Who the fuck is Dairon?’

…

Dairon said nothing as she helped Beau into the car, but Beau had enough experience with Dairon’s silences to know that she would absolutely be paying for it later. Beau wasn’t sure whether it was better or worse than the time Dairon had picked her up from the underground fighting ring, after she’d been K.O’ed in the second round, and spent six minutes unconscious on the ground.

In hindsight, that was way more embarrassing than being picked up, hungover and covered in vomit, and, now that she realized it, blood. Some of the sharper rocks must have broken the skin. 

‘Do you want to talk about it?’

‘Nope.’

‘Okay.’ Beau doubted Dairon would have been willing to talk about it, even if Beau had said yes.

That was the extent of the conversation they had as Dairon drove in the direction of the gym. Beau didn’t think herself nearly important enough to be afforded the privilege of visiting her coach’s  _home_ . The gym, at least, had showers, and a kitchen, and a bed that she could lay down and sleep off the hangover on. Molly promised to cover with Jester and Yasha until Beau was ready to see them. Huh. Maybe he was less of a dickhead than she’d thought.

Beau vomited once more before they got there, only she just barely managed to get the window down and stick her head out before letting loose. Even still, the momentum of the moving vehicle meant that some of it was splattered down the side of the car.

‘I’ll wash that off later,’ she muttered. Dairon didn’t take their eyes off the road.

‘Good.’

At the gym,  Beau spent almost an hour in the shower, and felt almost vaguely human by the time she was done. She pulled on a dark blue sweatshirt, and a pair of basketball shorts. Thankfully, she kept spare clothes in her locker, though she’d never had to use them for something like this before.

Dairon hadn’t prepared breakfast, but she had gotten out bacon, and eggs and bread, which Beau took as an invitation to start cooking. She managed to scarf down two and a half bacon and egg sandwiches before almost throwing up again, but this time, she managed to keep it down.

When she was finished, and had washed and dried her dishes, Beau wandered into the gym proper, where she found Dairon on the climbing wall, brown skin glistening with sweat. On hearing Beau’s footsteps, Dairon jumped down from the wall with far more grace than Beau had done anything in her life.

‘Thanks for picking me up,’ Beau told her. ‘Sorry I was such a mess.’

Dairon waved off the apology, but Beau knew from experience that it wouldn’t be forgotten. Dairon began to talk as though Beau had said nothing.

‘There is an opening on a card next month,’ Dairon said, in a tone of faux casualness. ‘Do you think you’ll be ready?’

‘Do _you_ think I’m ready?’

‘That wasn’t what I asked.’

Beau stared at  the wall .  She’d been waiting for this question for weeks, was sure she’d be able to say yes with the utmost confidence. Now, though, at her lowest point, she knew what the answer really was . ‘No,’ she muttered, and she hated that she had to say it. Her footwork was still weak as shit, and every time she did a teep, she could barely walk the next day.

Dairon nodded, but there was a small smile on her face. It had been a test, Beau realized. She doubted whether Dairon would have even let her if she’d said yes. She should have been pissed at the thought, but the only thing Beau felt capable of experiencing was utter numbness.

Ugh.

Beau pulled out her phone, and sent a message to Molly.

Might as well get it over with.

…

‘I can believe you spent the night_ here_,’ Jester wailed. ‘I tried calling Dairon, but she didn’t pick up.’ The first thing that Jester had done on entering the gym was wrap Beau in an utterly bone-breaking hug.

Her words startled Beau. She had assumed Molly would have told them where he’d found Beau, and, more worryingly, the condition that he’d found her in. The fact that he hadn’t...Beau felt a rush of gratitude for the tiefling. Somehow, Beau thought things would be much, much worse if they realized she’d spent the night passed out in a crumbling ruin, drinking her feelings. The last thing she wanted was people feeling sorry for her.

Everything still fucking hurt.

‘We were so worried,’ Jester continued. She looked back over at Yasha, who had been standing by the door, clearly wanting to come in closer, but also didn’t want to push her luck. The fact that she was here, the fact that her eyes were sunken, and her face was wet with tears did not escape Beau’s notice. Beau looked over, and their eyes locked. Shaking, Yasha made her way over to Beau.

Yasha made to give Beau a hug, but Beau, not even consciously, flinched away. The sound that Yasha made in response would have been heartbreaking if Beau felt like there was anything left to break.

‘Can we talk?’ Yasha asked, in a very soft, shaking voice. Beau bit back the scathing response that had been on the edge of her tongue. Molly was right (as much as she was loathe to admit it). It wouldn’t do either of them any good for Beau not to let Yasha at least get an explanation in.

‘Sure,’ Beau agreed, after a moment’s pause. She led Yasha into the locker room, which seemed like a very inappropriate place for this sort of conversation, but it was what they had.

‘I should have told you,’ was the first thing that Yasha said, the moment that the door clicked shut. Beau hadn’t even sat down yet. She moved to one of the benches that lined the lockers, and sat there, eventually replying:

‘Yeah, you should have.’

Yasha hesitated, and then sat down next to Beau. ‘It was not that I didn’t want you to know. It was – it is – a very painful memory for me.’

She took a deep breath. ‘I told you that I served. I did not tell you that Zuala served with me.’

‘Zuala,’ Beau said.

Yasha grimaced. ‘That was her name; Zuala. We...we were in the same unit. In the last days of the war, we were in a firefight. I could not save her.  I cannot stop remembering how I failed to save her. ’ Yasha’s voice was cold, detached, as though that was the only way she could talk about what had happened. Beau immediately felt like kind of a dick. ‘Since she died, I have not been with anyone, and I...I perhaps forgot how I am supposed to act in a relationship. Can you forgive me?’

All the things that Beau had planned to say seemed pointless now. She wasn’t sure if she forgave Yasha. She wasn’t even sure if there was anything to forgive. It seemed shitty to be mad at someone for being in mourning,  even if she’d clearly been in mourning for a long time.

‘I...need some time,’ Beau said. ‘I need some space. I want to talk more, but for the life of me, I have no idea what to say, Yash. I just...’ Beau took a breath. If she didn’t say the thing that was troubling her more than anything else now, she would never say it. ‘I’m not interested in being someone’s replacement.’

Yasha looked appropriately shocked, but said nothing for almost a minute. Then:

‘I am sorry that I made you feel as though you were a replacement. I…it certainly did not feel that way to me. You were the first person that I have met since her death that made me feel like maybe I could love again. I hate that I may have ruined that.’

‘You haven’t,’ Beau said, immediately, before she had even really considered the point. ‘You haven’t. I just...I need to think.’ She leaned over, and rested her forehead against Yasha’s. ‘You have no idea how much I want to just be okay with this, but I can’t.’

Yasha nodded, and Beau closed her eyes so she didn’t have to see the tears pressing against the edge of Yasha’s. ‘I’m going to stay  at the Chateau for a few days, okay?’

‘It’s your birthday next week.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Will you be ready before then?’ There were clearly a few words that went unspoken there, like “I came all the way here to celebrate your birthday, and it would suck to not be able to do it.

Beau gave a shrug. ‘Dunno.’ The disappointment in Yasha’s face was immediately evident, and for all that Beau wanted to pretend that nothing had ever happened, that they would be fine, but she couldn’t. If they didn’t deal with this properly – definitively – then it would be an anchor holding at bay over an already tenuous thread.

‘Beau, I...’ Yasha started, and then seemed to change her mind. ‘I am sorry,’ she said, finally. Then, as though she could not bear to continue such a painful conversation, she stood, and left, leaving Beau alone once more.


	12. Beau

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write this disagreement in such a way that really, no-one's deeply in the wrong, but I'm still interested to see the way peoples' opinions are, and that so many people are unequivocally on Yasha's side. (Next chapter will, of course, be Yasha's perspective).

12 –  Beau

Beau spent the better part of the next couple of days helping Bluud unload boxes, and tend bar. It was something she’d first started doing right after Marion and Jester had taken her in, but had fallen to the wayside once she’d started at the library, and her course-load became a little too much.

Still, growing up in a winery (and running a secret alcohol review blog) meant that she wasn’t a half-bad bartender, and could make a pretty good cocktail, when the occasion called for it. The Chateau’s regular bartender had taken a sabbatical to look after a sick relative, which meant Beau had been helping out once or twice a week. She hadn’t had the time to do so since Yasha’s arrival, but, with things the way they were…

At the very least, it took her mind off of things. Even the weather outside was changing to reflect her mood; dark clouds threatened rain that did not come, but were gloomy and uninviting nonetheless. The weather forecast had promised storms for weeks now, and not a single one had passed through. If that wasn’t the perfect metaphor for this whole bullshit situation, Beau didn’t know what was.

The ridiculous thing was, she missed Yasha.

They’d only been back together for like...a week, and the idea of being without her made Beau feel kind of empty inside. Ugh.

Love was stupid.

None of her previous relationships had been anything like this. They’d been  _fun_ , of course, but they had been physical more than anything else. Even Keg, who Beau still hung out with at softball games and pub crawls...there had never been enough romantic sort of stuff between them to make it awkward. With Yasha, it almost seemed the opposite. Not necessarily by choice; Beau would have stripped naked the second Yasha even hinted at wanting to consummate things, but it was pretty clear now there had been a pretty good reason why the other woman had been reluctant. Would have been pretty awkward if she’d called out someone else’s name during their first time.

Beau had kind of sort of lost track of what day it was, going in to school and work when her alarms told her to. It was around Da’leysen, she figured, when the storm finally –  _finally – _ hit . It was just after two a.m, and the majority of patrons at the Chateau had left for the evening. Beau gave something of a stink-eye to a solitary gnome that was ruminating over his glass of ale, until he, too, left, just in time for the rain to start falling.

‘I’ll be on the roof,’ Beau told Bluud. The minotaur gave a grunt of acknowledgment, not turning away from the bar table he was wiping down. Beau grabbed her jacket, and climbed up the fire escape to the top of the building.

The Chateau wasn’t the tallest building in Nicodranas, but it was close to it. This wasn’t exactly a town of impressive skyscrapers. The biggest building was the Nicodranas Hotel, which was a modest ten stories.

Beau sat down on the edge of the roof, legs hanging precariously off the edge. It gave her a little burst of adrenaline that had been sorely missing in her life recently, save in her often disappointing gym sessions.

She missed that unreplicable surge of fighting in a ring, the sound of the crowd in her ear, the flash of cameras going off around her.  The sort of feeling she’d been craving for so long, and yet knew in her heart would not come again for some time.

Decent enough for getting a view of the bright white flashes as they came in over the ocean, the thunder rumbling ever closer. Rain came down in torrential sheets; there were more than a few streets in town that would flood, their drainage was so bad.  Hopefully, it would die down before tomorrow afternoon when Beau had to go to work.

Forked lightning split the sky very close to the Chateau – possibly as close as the town center – and Beau jumped. She almost slipped forward over the edge of the roof, but just barely managed to catch herself.

That would have been a  _really_ shit way to end things.  Falling off a roof in the middle of a thunderstorm. At least in Xhorhas, she’d had Yasha there to save her.

That, Beau decided, was her cue to step back  from the edge, a decision that was only compounded by the sound of a voice calling her name.  At first, she thought she was imagining things, but then, she heard it again.

She turned around and saw Marion just outside the door.

‘Come in, dear, it’s so cold out there.’ Marion wasn’t shouting, but she still had to strain to be heard over the sound of the pounding rain. She had wrapped her shawl tightly around herself, and had braved the step out onto the roof proper. Beau didn’t think her shivering was because of the weather.

It was only on stepping inside that Beau realized she was soaked right down to the bone. It must have been raining heavier than she’d thought. Weird that she had barely even noticed.

The last time she’d been this wet was in Xhorhas, being crushed into the mud by the weight of her bike. While her memories of that night were spotty at best, it didn’t stop the nightmares of being surrounded by lightning, only to be pulled from the brink by a mysterious, winged figure.

In hindsight, Beau wondered if she’d maybe sort of romanticized Yasha in her head, just because of that whole “life-saving” thing. If they’d simply met on the street, or in a bar, or at the beach, would things have been any different?  Was their relationship simply the result of some sort of...reverse savior complex that Beau had built up inside her head, like she only wanted to get with Yasha because she’d saved Beau’s life.

No, that wasn’t true.

She didn’t think she’d be this upset if she didn’t have  _real _ feelings in there.

‘I’ve laid some dry clothes out for you,’ Marion said, her hand at the small of Beau’s back. ‘And Bluud is bringing up some hot chocolate.’ There was a pause. ‘Would you like to talk?’

Marion had not asked any questions when Beau asked if she could stay at the Lavish Chateau for a few days, but Beau imagined that Jester had filled her in behind the scenes nonetheless. In any case, she had thus far respected Beau’s unspoken desire not to talk about things. But, Beau supposed, even Marion had her limits, not to mention that half of her job involved talking to people about their problems, though Beau wasn’t exactly one of her clients. Just like...her pseudo-daughter.

This was probably one of those problems that normal people talked to their  _actual_ parents about. Beau couldn’t even imagine how that conversation would go. “Hi, Mom and Dad, I know we haven’t spoken in seven years, but I really need some advice about this woman I really like, please respond.”

Beau’s breath hitched in her throat. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘Let’s talk.’

The room was pleasantly warm by the time Beau had stripped out of her wet clothes, and into some fresh,  dry ones, toweling herself off with a fluffy, red bath sheet . It wasn’t often that Nicodranas got bitingly cold rains during summer, but it was enough that Beau hadn’t yet put away her blankets. If it was winter, there would be a roaring fire going.

True to Marion’s word, Bluud brought up a tray of hot chocolate, and a bowl of popcorn. From the wink that Bluud gave her, Beau was pretty sure he’d added a nip of something to the hot chocolate.

‘Can I go ahead and guess that Jester’s told you the key points of this?’ Beau asked. Marion gave an amused sort of smile.

‘That would be a fairly accurate assumption.’ Beau couldn’t help but grin slightly. She loved Jester, she really did, but secrets were not the tiefling’s forte. Beau remembered the time that Jester had painstakingly planned a surprise party for Fjord’s birthday, and then accidentally told him about it two days beforehand.

She hesitated, not really knowing how much to say. When she opened her mouth, though, it was like opening floodgates. Everything seemed to come out at once. ‘I don’t think it’s really even about the fact that she had a wife. Like, sure, it’s a thing, and sure, it kind of does play into my insecurities, but I can live with that, y’know. It’s the fact that...she made me feel like I wasn’t an important enough person for her to tell. And like...I  _get_ that she wasn’t trying to do that at all, but...it still hurts.’

‘Of course,’ Marion agreed. Whether or not she even _did_ agree, it was hard to tell; Beau was pretty sure the courtesan conversation generally didn’t involve the courtesan disagreeing with things. In fact, Beau wasn’t even sure whether she needed to be agreed or disagreed with. Even just talking through it helped with her own thoughts.

‘Truth told, I’m kind of surprised she’s not banging down the door.’

‘She wanted to,’ Marion admitted. Beau raised an eyebrow in question. ‘She was...in the end convinced that it would not help things. That you had to come to her in your own time.’ Beau wasn’t exactly surprised that there had apparently been conversations about this behind her back. She’d probably have been more surprised if there hadn’t been any. But in any case, Marion seemed to be more in the loop than even Beau was.

The fact that Yasha had wanted to see her, and had been convinced not to…well, she wasn’t sure how she felt about that. Okay, it was good that her request for space had been respected, but at the same time...she also kind of really wanted to see Yasha.

It was stupid.

It was hypocritical, and it was stupid. Beau was well aware of how much of a hypocrite she was being in this situation, giving Yasha flack for not talking about her past, when Beau had remained ever tight-lipped about things in her own past.  There was a difference, though, between knowing something was illogical, and being able to accept it in her heart.

With a sigh, Beau rested her head against Marion’s shoulder. She was only sort of vaguely aware that she’d done it, but it was such a comfortable, normal sort of thing, that she didn’t really want to move it. Unlike her own mother, who had eschewed any type of physical contact, Marion didn’t push her away. Instead, Marion pulled Beau in closer, and began stroking her hair, soft, warm hands in slow, calming strokes. The tears that started to well in Beau’s eyes had nothing to do with Yasha.

It was the hardest lesson she’d ever learned, and maybe, realistically, one that she hadn’t quite learned yet, that sometimes you could just...take peoples’ love at face value. That Yasha hadn’t been trying to do wrong by her, in not giving all the details of her past.

‘Thanks for…thanks for everything, M-Marion.’ Beau had stumbled over that last part, had almost called her “Mom” again, but just about managed to stop herself in time.

‘It is nothing, my little lapis.’ Beau couldn’t help but smile at the nickname. It wasn’t the first time that Marion had used it, but it still sent a little bit of a thrill down Beau’s spine, knowing she was important enough to the heralded Ruby of the Sea to warrant an affectionate nickname.

By the time they’d finished their heart to heart, the storm had well and truly died down, and Beau was feeling a little easier about things. Easy enough, at least, that she felt like maybe she was ready to have a proper conversation with Yasha.

Beau sighed. If she didn’t do this now, bolstered by the clarity the conversation with Marion had given her, she would never do it.

She took her phone from her pocket, and typed out a very short text message to  Yasha,  forgetting that it was now three o’clock in the morning: 

_Wanna get lunch tomorrow?_


	13. Yasha

13 – Yasha

Yasha lasted a grand total of twelve hours before deciding that she absolutely needed to go the Chateau and talk to Beau. It was close to midnight, and Jester was already in bed, leaving Molly and Yasha up playing Three Card Ante, using pretzels and M&Ms as betting chips. Yasha was winning by a considerable amount; while she was a terrible liar, all she had to do was keep her mouth shut. Molly couldn’t bluff worth a damn.

When he finally admitted defeat, Yasha had accumulated a large pile of snack foods that she passed right back to him. He would turn his nose up at rat and spider, and yet eat a whole bag of onion rings right before bedtime.

Yasha stood, and grabbed her phone.

‘Where are you going?’ Molly asked, suddenly serious. Five minutes ago, he’d been laughing his ass off trying to convince her he didn’t have any threes.

‘I need to go and talk to Beau,’ she said, making for the door. To her surprise, Molly stepped in front of her.

‘As your best friend slash brother, I need to make sure that you know that that is absolutely the wrong thing to do.’ He put a hand on Yasha’s shoulder. ‘As someone that has stood in front of many a window holding an apology boombox, If you go to her before she’s ready, you are never going to get her back.’ 

Yasha stared at him. ‘You think Beau’s a trashbag, why do you care about whether or not we’re together?’

Molly sighed. ‘You know me, Yash, I have a thing for vulnerable people. If only she’d led with going on a drunken, crying bender, then we would’ve gotten on great from the beginning.’ Yasha knew that Molly had intended his words to be blasé, forgetting, perhaps that he’d so far kept tight-lipped about what had happened that night.

Yasha played it cool, but inside her heart was maybe breaking a little bit. To know that Beau had been put through so much pain because of her…That was the last thing she wanted. Somehow, by trying to do this properly, she’d quite possible screwed everything up.

Defeated, Yasha slumped onto the couch.

‘Ah, she’ll come around,’ Molly said, but from his tone of voice, Yasha could tell he didn’t really believe it. That might have been something to do with the fact that none of his relationships had ever lasted longer than six weeks. Maybe she should warn Caleb.

Or not. For his part, Molly seemed perfectly content in approaching this the way a normal person would approach relationships, perhaps in an effort to spite Yasha. “See, _I’m_ the normal one for once.” He was even trying to work his way through a book that Caleb had bought him that appeared to have something to do with fishing.

Still, Molly wasn’t wrong. Yasha knew there was a reason she kept him around. A reason besides the fact that he was still the closest thing in the world that she had to family.

She was still mulling over his words two days later, only this time, Jester was there to provide her thoughts on the matter. It had quickly devolved into Jester revealing literally everything that she knew about Beau’s history, as they played Candy Land. Molly, for some insane reason, was winning.

‘She’s got like...a lot of insecurities,’ Jester said, casually, as though she wasn’t talking about her best friend’s deepest secrets. ‘Cos of the way her parents were, I guess. So she gets really pleased when people tell her she’s done a good job, and stuff, you know?’

‘I mean, who _doesn’t_ have a praise kink?’ Molly asked. Jester frowned. Yasha frowned even harder.

‘Like…_so_ many people,’ she said. ‘But, you know, Beau also likes to be told off for being naughty, so—’ Jester stopped, suddenly, realizing what she was saying, and, more importantly, who she was saying it to. ‘The walls are really thin,’ she said, apologetically. 

Yasha made a mental note to…She wasn’t even sure  _what_ the solution to that was, but it struck her that she was planning for the eventuality of sharing a room, and, more importantly, sharing intimate experiences with Beau. That, of course, was contingent on Beau forgiving Yasha, and, more importantly, Yasha  maybe sort of allowing herself the luxury of moving on.

She hated those words.

Moving on. As though Zuala’s death was ever something she could truly forget. It would stay with her for the rest of her life, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t go on living that life.  Perhaps that was a lesson she should have learned before this week, so that maybe she could have gone into this relationship without one hand tied behind her back.

Yasha packed all the pieces back into the box, and put it back in the hall closet. There were at least a dozen other board games in there, the majority of which, she assumed, were Jester’s. She couldn’t see Beau getting too excited about playing Hungry Hungry Hippos, for example.

Back in the living room,  Molly and Jester were lying on the couch, going through Molly’s phone. Yasha could tell just by listening in that Molly was showing her photos of every dildo he had ever designed, and Jester was making appropriate commentary.

‘Oooh, that one is _so _pretty,’ Jester said, in clear admiration. Yasha was pretty sure she was looking at the pink sparkly one that had caused no small number of issues with glitter. Molly had asked Yasha if she wanted to help him test them out, which she had immediately and unambiguously declined.

‘I brought a few samples with me, if you want to experience their amazingness for yourself.’

‘That would be _great_.’ Yasha froze. She was pretty sure she didn’t need to be here for the rest of this conversation. Then, Jester said:

‘So when can I tattoo a dick on you?’ and Yasha knew for sure that she didn’t need to be there.

Though it was well after midnight, Yasha decided to go for a walk. She could hear the light sprinkling of rain, and wondered if maybe she would finally get the storm that she’d been waiting for.  She went into the spare room, and found her camera bag and tripod.

The best option, of course, would be to go to high ground. The shots from up on the cliffside looking out over the city would be fantastic, but without transport, Yasha was stuck with whatever she could get to within walking distance.  Walking into town with a camera and a tripod in the middle of a storm would no doubt get her some strange looks, and probably a few calls to the Zolezzo, so Yasha opted for the beach.

For as long as Yasha could remember, she’d loved storms. Loved the rain against her face, her body, her hair, loved the thrill of being out in the middle of one, never quite knowing where lightning was going to strike.

For a few years now, she had kept a quiet sort of worship of Kord, the Stormlord. There was a strangely distant memory in her mind, of visiting one of his temples in the months that had followed Zuala’s death. Those months were mostly a blur in her mind, but seeing that temple, seeing the lightning flash across the sky as she wept at his altar...that stuck out.

Though she probably hadn’t consciously thought about it at the time, she’d probably said a private prayer to the Stormlord that night on the Bazzoxan Pass.

Yasha stretched out on the sand dunes, ignoring the water that dripped into her eyes. She could barely see, but then, she didn’t need to. The best way to photograph a storm was to set the camera up on the tripod, and shoot a lot of photos in succession. Eventually…well, lightning would strike. Sand wasn’t the greatest foundation for the tripod, but Yasha was quite enjoying being out here, watching the storm come closer and closer. 

She was far enough back from the water to be safe from waves, but being the tallest thing out on the exposed beach wasn’t really the safest situation. Usually, when she was out chasing storms, she had a little more cover. So, after she’d gotten a few shots in, Yasha packed up her camera and her tripod, and made her way back up the beach. The sound of thunder was getting closer, and the last thing she wanted was to get caught out here when the storm came over Nicodranas proper.

Five years ago, she wouldn’t have even blinked at the thought. Five years ago, she would get as close to the storms as possible, just to get the perfect shot. There was something about the adrenaline that made her feel alive, but now, there were other things around that made her feel alive.  Never mind that her bike was still in Xhorhas, and her girlfriend hadn’t quite decided whether or not she even wanted to see Yasha ever again. There were a whole slew of other things that she normally did in Xhorhas that she hadn’t quite had the chance to figure out whether she could do here yet. It was pointless to speculate on whether or not she could; if she and Beau broke up, then, as nice a place as it was, there would be little reason to say.

For some reason that idea made her profoundly sad. Far sadder than she had expected it to. In spite of Molly’s beliefs, Yasha actually  _had_ tried to see people in the time since Zuala’s death. None of the relationships had lasted longer than a month. Beau was the first person she’d met where...maybe she could have seen a future.

As if the universe itself had heard her words, Yasha felt her phone buzz. She waited until she was back inside out of the rain before looking at it.

A text message.

More to the point, a text message from Beau.  _Wanna get lunch tomorrow?_

Yasha stared, hardly letting herself believe it.  She had expected this to take far longer; the fact that Beau was already wanted to meet, was either a very good thing, or a very bad thing. Yasha couldn’t quite tell which. She wanted a couple of minutes before responding, so as not to look like she’d been staring at her phone, waiting for a message.

_ That would be good _ .

Yasha wasn’t expecting a response. She was expecting that maybe Beau would just come to the house at some nebulous time before lunch tomorrow, and then either break her heart, or...or something else. Yasha was surprised, then, when the phone buzzed once more. She laughed.

_ Holy shit, you’re still up? _

Yasha bit her lip. She waited a single minute to respond.

_ Taking photos of the storm. _

A couple of minutes later, another buzz.

_ Oh yeah, it was a pretty good one. Glad you finally got to take some shots. Find any injured idiots out on the road? _

Yasha hesitated. It felt like Beau was setting a casual tone for the conversation, but the last thing she wanted to do was fuck it up and say something she shouldn’t say. She was bad enough in person, with the whole “not getting social cues.” Something which (fortunately or unfortunately) she and Beau had in common.

_None this time, unfortunately. I’ll have to stick with the one I’ve got._

Yasha was so sure she’d made a mistake when Beau didn’t respond for several minutes. She almost considered going to the extent of waking a snoring Molly from his position face down on the couch, but then – finally – the phone buzzed again.

_;)_.

Yasha stared at the wink. That had to be good. She might not have been good with social cues, but she was good enough to know that a winky face was good. Better, at least, than a frowny face.

Like a coward, she ignored it.

_I will see you tomorrow_, was all she wrote back.


	14. Here Comes the Sun

14 –  Here Comes the Sun

It didn’t take Yasha long to find the waterfront restaurant. Beau’s directions had been quite good, but in any case, there were not a great deal of other things in the area to be confused by.

Yasha had spent a long time deciding what she was going to wear, not entirely sure whether this was going to be a make up lunch, or a break up lunch. Jester, of course, had been optimistic.  Or had at least put on an optimistic front.

‘Of course she’s not going to break up with you, Yasha,’ the tiefling had said. “That’s not how she normally breaks up with people.” There was a moment of awkward silence, as Yasha processed the fact that Beau had broken up with enough people to have a “normal” way to do it.

‘Yeah, she’ll take you for a romantic walk on the beach, and break up with you there,’ Molly added, not particularly helpfully. Whether or not Molly believed that Beau was going to dump Yasha was immaterial, the fact that he even mentioned the possibility sent a wave of nausea through Yasha’s stomach. He apparently sensed that he’d made a mistake, because he was at Yasha’s side, instantly, a hand on her shoulder. ‘Come on Yash. Beau may be unpleasant, but she’s not a fucking jerk. She wouldn’t screw you around like that.’

‘Beau’s _not_ unpleasant,’ Jester protested, but she still had an uneasy sort of look on her face, as though she wasn’t entirely sure about the rest of what Molly had said.

So, it was with some trepidation that Yasha entered the restaurant, and scanned around looking for Beau. She was sitting at a table in the outdoor area, legs crossed, and using her phone. She looked up as Yasha walked towards her, and slipped her phone back into her pocket.

‘Hey.’ Beau stood, and leaned over to kiss Yasha on the cheek. That was a good sign, surely. Surely, she wouldn’t do that if she planned on breaking up. ‘Are you going to dump me?’ Yasha blurted out, suddenly, as they sat down. Beau gave her a startled look that turned quickly to horror. Yasha was vaguely aware of the waiter that had been coming up to take their order abruptly stop, turn around and walk in the opposite direction.

‘No, of course not. Shit, have you been thinking that I was going to invite you out to lunch just to break up with you?’

‘I mean...It was a possibility.’

Beau bit her lip. ‘Shit. Fuck. I’m so sorry, I should have...Sometimes my brain doesn’t really consider how other people might react to things that I say.’ She took a breath. ‘I don’t want to break up with you. At all. I want to...I wanted to apologize.’

‘You—what?’ Yasha was a little speechless. Of all the ways she had been expecting this to go, this wasn’t it. ‘What do you need to apologize for?’

‘I mean, it was really shitty of me to get upset about you having seen other people before me.’

It was a light way of looking at it: “seen other people,” but Yasha understood what Beau was trying to say nonetheless. She hadn’t finished speaking.

‘There’s uh...a little bit more to the story about how Jester and I met,’ Beau continued, speaking very fast, as though to get it out quickly. ‘Only Jester doesn’t know about this part. Talking with Marion last night, kind of...dredged it all up in my head. See at the time, I was seeing this girl – Tori – and we’d sort of put together this little scheme, where I’d skim a bunch of wine from my Dad’s stores, and we’d sell it. Only then, my dad got suspicious, and Tori threw me under the bus when he came sniffing around.’ She paused. Hesitated. Took a deep breath. ‘My whole life, I’ve never been in a situation where I was the most important thing to someone. Even my parents…’ She trailed off. ‘My insecurities got the better of me, and I took it out on you, and I’m sorry.’

Yasha had had a whole…something prepared, to try and convince Beau that she was sorry, but it seemed hardly necessary now. Even still, she  _needed_ to do it, if not for Beau’s sake, then for her own.

‘I, uh...I am also sorry,’ Yasha said. ‘I did not mean for it to stay a secret for so long, and the longer I left it, the more afraid I became that finding out would….drive you away.’ There was an awkward sort of silence, neither of them bothering to mention that it almost _had_ driven her away. ‘I am not...I am not very good at communicating what I want to people. I should have made it clearer that…you are very important to me.’ Neither of them missed the fact that she hadn’t said “most important,” but Yasha knew that that was a very strong commitment to make. Beau for her part, didn’t look overly upset (they had only been together for six months, after all), but Yasha could tell she was thinking about Zuala.

‘What was she like?’ Beau blurted out, looking as though she regretted it, but she didn’t withdraw the question. ‘Zuala, I mean.’

Yasha hesitated. She couldn’t think of a way to phrase it that didn’t sound as though she was comparing Zuala to Beau. ‘You are nothing like Zuala,’ she said, finally. Beau stared at her. ‘She was like…the moon,’ Yasha said, frowning. It wasn’t a perfect metaphor. ‘You are like the sun.’

‘You mean really, really hot?’ Beau grinned.

‘Yes, but...also, bright, and warm, and powerful, but also sometimes distant,’ she added, maybe a little regretfully. Beau didn’t look as though she disagreed.

‘What does that make the moon?’ Beau asked, in that ever-curious voice of hers. She wanted to know about Zuala, even if it led to something painful.

Yasha hesitated. If she closed her eyes, she could remember the cool touch of Zuala’s hand on hers. She closed her eyes. The hand that touched her was warm.

‘We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,’ Beau said, gently.

‘I want to talk about it,’ Yasha insisted. She frowned. ‘I just…haven’t found the words.’

That was what it came down to, a little bit. Yasha didn’t consider herself a very charismatic person. In fact, she was the last thing from charismatic. She couldn’t wax on poetically like Molly seemed to be able to, sometimes, or even make people blush with a single wink, like Beau seemed to be able to. She’d spent so long struggling with the words to be able to tell people what she wanted to say that she’d waited far too long to actually say it.

‘Zuala was like...a light in a dark place,’ she said, finally. ‘Someone that spent so long by my side, until she...until she wasn’t. I have spent long enough that I am used to being without her, but I still...enjoy the memories.’

Beau reached across the table, and squeezed Yasha’s hand. ‘Thank-you for, uh...for trusting me enough to tell me about her.’

After getting the deep conversation out of the way, lunch was an almost casual affair. Beau, still apparently on orders from her coach, ordered fish and vegetables, and looked a little mournfully at Yasha’s pasta.

‘Go on,’ Yasha said, pushing the plate towards Beau. ‘I won’t tell Dairon.’ Not that she could imagine a situation where she would ever find herself actually talking to Dairon again, without Beau being there.

Beau winked, and took a forkful of pasta. It was pretty good pasta, too. They didn’t have anything like this in Xhorhas. Not that Xhorhasian food was bad; it was just different. Lots of meats, and breads, and spices. Being in Nicodranas was an entirely different experience for her, culturally, emotionally, and socially.

After lunch, they walked down to the beach. It was a beautiful afternoon, and the beach was surprisingly empty. Only a dozen or so other people were down there, and, as Beau took them further along towards a secluded cliff, they were eventually alone.

The conversation and the reconciliation had sparked a renewed vigor in Yasha, as she pulled Beau down onto the sand, and kissed her. Beau responded enthusiastically, running her hands through Yasha’s hair, pulling her in closer. Yasha hooked her foot around Beau’s ankle, and – carefully – flipped them.

Beau gave a gasp, and Yasha stopped, suddenly. ‘Are you alright? Sorry, I should have—’ She had forgotten that Beau had basically shattered her legs less than a year ago.

‘I’m fine,’ Beau said, in a breathless sort of voice. ‘You didn’t hurt me, you just startled me.’ Yasha remembered again, that Beau had probably been back doing this stuff in her grappling training. It was a pretty basic sweep, which meant she was sure that Beau could have easily flipped them back, if she wanted to, but she seemed perfectly content in being underneath Yasha, pressed into the sand. It wasn’t entirely clear why, until Beau reached up, and started undoing the buttons on Yasha’s shirt. Yasha froze, and consequently, so did Beau, her shoulders suddenly tense.

‘Do you really want our first time to be on sand, with all those little grains getting up everywhere, somewhere where anyone could come by and see what we are doing?’ Beau’s shoulders relaxed all of a sudden, and Yasha realized Beau had been worried that Yasha didn’t want to do this at all.

Beau gave a sort of half shrug. ‘Honestly, not the worst place I’ve ever fucked someone.’

There was a beat of silence. ‘Well now I’m curious.’

‘Uh...ladies toilets at a gay bar, back alley behind a pizza restaurant, inside a tent at a music festival,’ Beau started, and Yasha decided that it would be a good idea to stop her there. Never mind that in a few short words, Beau had revealed just how much more extensive her...romantic history was compared to Yasha’s. There was a single name on Yasha’s list. Two, now, she supposed, if Beau counted. Which, she technically didn’t yet.

‘And isn’t a bed so much nicer?’ Truth told, Yasha preferred being outdoors to indoors, if she could help it, but that didn’t extend to being naked on a beach, where anyone could see them. It was an intimate moment.

‘Are you saying you’re ready?’ Beau asked. She had stopped in her quest to remove Yasha’s shirt, but was still tracing a swirling pattern across the pale skin of Yasha’s stomach.

‘I think so, yes,’ Yasha said. Then she remembered Jester’s comment about being able to hear everything Beau did. ‘But ah...I feel that the walls in your house may be a little thin.’

Beau grinned. ‘Yeah,’ she said. ‘The number of times I’ve heard Jester mastur—’ She stopped, suddenly, looking horrified. ‘Oh gods, she’s heard me, too.’ There was an awkward sort of pause. ‘How do you feel about spending the night at the _Lavish Chateau_? We can make it a thing; candles, wine, all that romantic shit that normal people do.’

‘That sounds very nice,’ Yasha said. She rolled off of Beau’s stomach, and landed heavily in the sand beside her. They lazed around the beach for another half an hour or so, splashing in the water, kissing a bit more, and finally calling it a day when Beau tried to jump between two large rocks and almost cracked her skull open.

‘I’m fine,’ Beau said, sounding angry at herself, more than anything. Nothing was broken, but she did walk with a very slight limp for a few minutes, before easing back into her normal gait.

Yasha hadn’t wanted to ask the question, but was pleasantly surprised nonetheless when Beau took them back to the car. The presence of a duffel bag in the back seat was a decidedly good thing, she thought. There had still been a small part of her that wondered if Beau would continue to stay at the _Chateau_, rather than the house.

Both Molly and Jester were in the living room when Beau and Yasha entered, hand in hand.

‘Aha!’ Molly said, and he put his hand out triumphantly. Jester sighed, and handed him a gold piece.

Beau frowned. ‘Did you seriously bet on whether or not we were going to break up?’ She rounded on Jester. ‘Did _you _bet _against_ us?’

‘It was just a friendly wager,’ Molly said, flipping the coin into the air, and pocketing it. ‘Nothing was meant by it.’

‘Somehow, the fact that you actually had faith that I wasn’t a complete idiot actually means something.’

‘Oh, no.’ Molly grinned. ‘I for sure thought you were going to break up,’ he said. ‘But I’m never one to turn down a bet.’

‘Yasha!’ Jester said, and Yasha jumped, a little surprised at her sudden inclusion. ‘Why is your back all sunburned?’ A salacious sort of grin crossed the tiefling’s face. ‘Were you on top?’

‘Come on Jester, don’t embarrass her,’ Molly said, jovially. ‘She’s whiter than a dude from the Empire trying to play basketball. That’s why she got burned.’

‘Thank you, Molly.’

‘But, the fact that it’s only her back means she was definitely on top.’ Molly managed to dodge the tired slap Yasha sent in his direction, but didn’t quite notice Beau coming in from the other side. She brought her hand down heavily, and he flinched, even as she clapped it onto his shoulder.

‘Don’t be shy, Yasha,’ Beau said, giving Yasha a knowing look. ‘I think Molly would love it if we went into very explicit detail about absolutely everything that we did.’

There was a very brief moment where Yasha thought Molly might call Beau’s bluff, but he didn’t, for which Yasha was very grateful. Not because they’d actually done anything particularly raunchy, but because she didn’t want to set a precedent. 

‘I hope you had a good time,’ was all he said, adding a wink as he left the room, dragging Jester with him. Yasha tried to turn to look at her own back.

‘It’s not too badly burned is it?’

‘Nah, we weren’t out there that long,’ Beau said. ‘I think Jester was just trying to stir. But I can, ah, rub some aloe on it for you, though, if you like?’

‘You just want to get my shirt off.’ Beau didn’t disagree. Instead, she gave Yasha a grin and a wink. It was as if that old ease had returned. As though the things that had happened, the things that they had discussed had only made them stronger. They were both, Yasha thought, a little more on the same page now, compared to where they had been even just a week ago. She leaned across, and pressed a kiss to Beau’s shoulder. ‘I don’t think I’ve mentioned yet how happy I am to be here,’ she said. ‘With you.’ Beau gave a look, as though she wasn’t quite sure whether or not Yasha was serious. When nobody laughed, Beau’s face settled into a more serene smile.

‘I’m glad you’re here, too,’ she said.


	15. Summer Nights

15 – Summer Nights

Beau was terrified.

She’d been okay with the idea of Yasha wanting to take it slow, figuring that they’d reach the point of...well, banging eventually. Now that Yasha had pretty much unequivocally said “let’s do it,” it was suddenly a very real thing that was going to happen.

Not that Beau had ever felt any particular anxiety about her sexual prowess, for lack of a better word. Not to go into it, but no-one had ever exactly complained after a night (and then let’s be honest, a morning) with her. Before she’d started dating Yasha, there were more than a couple of old flames that she’d hooked up with again on occasion, if the dating pool was feeling a little dry. She didn’t think either Keg or Reani would particularly appreciate a call asking for dating advice. But still, they could probably help her, even if they didn’t realize they were doing it. Beau didn’t think it was unfair to say that she had a pretty good track record when it came to sealing the deal.

Bluud had very kindly made dinner from ingredients that Beau and Jester had bought. On Beau’s insistence, Molly and Yasha had gone to the movies for the afternoon, during which time Beau and Jester had made the trek down to Port Damali, which had a pretty big Xhorhasian expat community, but more importantly, a Xhorhasian grocery store. There were lots of spices that Beau vaguely recognized from her days of sleeping in shitty Xhorhasian hostels, and eating street food for five copper in the small towns along the Bazzoxan Pass.

She tried to speak to the owner in very broken Xhorhasian, but failed miserably. Eventually, through lots of miming and phone translating, Beau managed to convey the message that she wanted to cook a meal for someone from Xhorhas. Twenty minutes later, they left with what Beau realized was probably enough herbs, spices, aromatics and other bits and pieces for a dozen home-cooked Xhorhasian meals, plus several recipes hand-written on the back of receipt paper.

Knowing exactly what was going to follow dinner, Beau opted to give Bluud one of the recipes without a dozen chillies in it. He looked at it, then looked at the bag of ingredients that had cost about ten gold.

‘I can work with this,’ he said.

…

At around seven, Beau went back to the house to pick up Yasha. It was disappointing that she didn’t have a cool, sexy motorcycle to do it on, and was instead stuck with her boring as shit car, but it would have to do.

She had gotten dressed at the Chateau, putting on the one nice outfit that she owned (a sky blue pantsuit that she’d found on the discount rack at the thrift store), and spent another half an hour trying to fix her hair in such a way that it didn’t make her look like such a douchebag. Admittedly, that was something of a lost cause, so she settled on letting it down, and kind of just brushing it back with styling cream. Not perfect, but at least she didn’t look like she cat-called girls on the boardwalk.

Yasha was wearing a simple black dress, but she made it look like the most beautiful thing in the world. Even without heels on, she was at least six inches taller than Beau, who had to stretch up to kiss her.

‘You look really hot,’ Beau grinned.

‘Well, I was told by a very good source that I am suppose to dress up when someone is trying to seduce me.’

‘Am I trying to seduce, or are you pre-seduced?’

Yasha gave her a look. ‘Are you saying that you won’t be using any seduction techniques tonight?’

‘You look really hot,’ Beau said again, still grinning. Yasha rolled her eyes, but she, too, was smiling.

‘So do you.’

It was far too early for there to be any customers at the Chateau, but even then, Beau was using the room she usually stayed at, which was in a different section to all of the customer rooms, and one in which they wouldn’t be disturbed.

Jester wouldn’t be listening in at the walls at any rate. Beau had given Fjord instructions to keep her as far away from the Chateau as possible, and, after a very small amount of consideration, had included Molly in those instructions. Beau didn’t put it past either of the tieflings to be conspiring in shenanigans. So she’d given Fjord twenty gold, and told him to go wild. As far as she knew, they had gone bowling with Caleb, Nott and Yeza. Far enough from the Lavish Chateau that Beau only checked the halls once, rather than twice, when they got there.

Satisfied that there were no tieflings hiding in any hall closets, Beau led Yasha to the room, and stepped inside. She let out a breath she didn’t know she’d been holding.

Bluud had outdone himself.

The room was separated into two sections; a living area, and a sleeping area. The living area was lit with the strings of fairy lights that Beau had spent a very frustrating part of the afternoon trying to put up before swearing, and deciding just to use the overhead instead.

The round table was laid out for two, and a bottle of very nice (non-Lionett wine was waiting in a bucket of ice).

‘This is...amazing,’ Yasha said. The pause, Beau knew, was not because she was lying, but because she was trying to figure out how to phrase it. Beau hooked her phone up to the Bluetooth speaker, and started up the “Beau’s Mojo” playlist. She’d revamped the whole playlist, because reusing seduction techniques aside, it seemed a little tacky to use the same playlist. There was hardly anything raunchy or suggestive on this one, though Beau had a vague suspicion that Yasha would have been amused if _Go All the Way _came up on shuffle. 

Beau opened the wine, and poured two small glasses. It wouldn’t do for either of them to get drunk before the food arrived, especially given the fact that Beau hadn’t eaten all afternoon in anticipation of Bluud’s cooking.

‘What should I be tasting?’ Yasha asked, as she took a slow sip.

‘Mmm,’ Beau said, following suit. ‘Black plum with a bit of a hint of smoke, plus a nice note of cardamom that’s signature to their oak-aging.’

Yasha frowned. ‘I just taste wine. Very nice wine, but...just wine.’

Beau grinned. ‘Ah, it’s a learned art. Plus, chemistry means that it tastes different for some people anyway. I wouldn’t get too worried about not being able to pick out flavors.’

‘I heard—’ Yasha started, and then stopped suddenly, looking very embarrassed. Beau raised an eyebrow.

‘What did you hear.’

‘Just that...if you eat a lot of pineapple…’ She trailed off, and cast her gaze off in the opposite direction. It was kind of cute.

‘I have heard that rumor,’ Beau said. ‘Though for science, we should really do extensive experimentation to find out whether or not it’s true.’ She gave Yasha a wink, and the blush deepened. ‘Seriously, though, we don’t have to do anything that you don’t want to do. Even if you decide that all you want to do tonight is eat dinner, then that’s all we’ll do.’ She would be disappointed, of course, but she’d been disappointed before. She would survive it.

‘Let’s start with dinner,’ Yasha said.

After a quick text message, Bluud brought in a very large platter filled with spiced meats, and vegetables, and flatbread, the mouthwatering smells of traditional Xhorhasian cooking filling the room. For a brief moment, Yasha was speechless.

‘Beau,’ she said.

‘I know, uh...It was a pretty big thing for you to drop everything and come over here to visit, and I know I’m not always the easiest person to be around, but I’m...I’m trying.’

‘Is this because of...because of Zuala?’ Yasha asked, hesitant, and Beau’s head shot upwards. She hadn’t even considered the thought she might have been unconsciously compensating for something, but now, it was the _only_ thing she could think about. Shit. This wasn’t something she wanted to be thinking about right now. ‘I’m sorry, that was an unfair question.’

‘How about we eat,’ Beau suggested, pulling Yasha’s chair out for her. Yasha smiled, and sat down.

_Alright_, thought Beau. _Here we go_.

…

Dinner was delicious.

Yasha wasn’t sure how Beau had managed to find Xhorhasian Six Spice, but somehow, she had, The meat was tender, and succulent, and seasoned to perfection. It was almost as good as Yasha’s grandfather used to make, before he died in the war. It had been almost ten years now; he probably would have had a fit if he’d known that Yasha was dating someone from the Empire.

The bread, too, was hand-made, and looked fresh. It was a little doughier than Xhorhasian flat bread was supposed to be, but it soaked up the flavors well.

Yasha erred on the side of eating a little less than she really wanted to, knowing that if she didn’t, she’d be feeling bloated for hours to come. Alright on a normal night, perhaps, but when you had tentative plans of love-making, a little less so.

They talked while they let dinner settle. Bluud had come to collect the platter, and Yasha could have sworn he’d given a conspiratorial sort of wink. Yasha showed Beau some of the photos that she’d taken during the storm, and Beau was suitably impressed.

‘That’s so fucking cool,’ she said. It was the same thing she’d said about every single shot Yasha had ever taken, but Yasha wasn’t exactly perturbed. It _was_ pretty fucking cool.

Yasha put her phone down, and they lay there in a comfortable sort of silence for a few minutes, before Yasha moved her hand down to grasp Beau’s.

‘Wait,’ Beau said, pulling away sharply. ‘Wait.’ She jumped to her feet, and before Yasha could even say anything, had lit the candles that were scattered around the room; Yasha sat up, and took a moment to sniff the air. It smelt like an ocean breeze and…and something else she couldn’t quite place. ‘What is that?’

‘Uh, Storm Watch,’ Beau told her. ‘Or as Keg would say, “Lesbian dating ritual.”’ She paused. ‘Do you like it?’

‘Yes,’ Yasha said. She stood, and stepped forward, perhaps a little nervously. She had not...with anyone since Zuala’s death. She had forgotten how this was supposed to go. ‘Can I touch you?’

‘That’s the idea,’ Beau murmured. She bit her lip. Yasha was surprised to realize that Beau was just as nervous as _she_ was. Given what she’d learned about Beau’s dating habits, Yasha would have thought she’d be a little more at ease. There was a difference, she supposed, between a casual hookup, and something a little more serious.

Yasha leaned in, and kissed Beau.  Beau kissed her back with an almost hungry fervor, and pulled her jacket off, tossing it onto the floor. The shirt now freed, Yasha’s hands went straight to the buttons, and undid them one by one. It would have been far easier to rip the thing off, but Yasha was fairly sure it might have been Beau’s only formal shirt, and she didn’t want to be responsible for ruining it. Beau clearly felt no such misgivings, and a couple of the buttons popped off in Beau’s haste to help Yasha get the shirt fully off.

‘Eh, Jester can help me sew them back on,’ Beau said, shrugging. She tossed the shirt onto the floor next to the jacket.

Beau stood there in her bra and pants, and Yasha was almost entirely certain she was flexing her abs. There were a good half dozen photos on Yasha’s phone of almost this exact scenario, only she hadn’t been there to see them taken. As though to convince herself it was real, she ran her hands from Beau’s shoulders down to her hips.

‘Oh man, that felt nice.’ Beau pulled Yasha back towards her, and made to lift the hem of Yasha’s dress, giving plenty of time for Yasha to change her mind if she wanted.

She didn’t want to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, maybe a little bit of smut? Or maybe some passionate, semi-fade to black sex. We'll see.


	16. Summer Lovin'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains smut. Let that be either a warning, or an incentive.

16 – Summer Lovin’

Yasha pushed Beau down onto the bed, the swiftness of it a little surprising. Beau was not averse to her sexual partners taking control in the bedroom, but usually, given the forwardness of her flirtations, she had to ease them into it.

Yasha, she hadn’t even had to ask.

Ir was funny; she’d sort of expected that Yasha, who had been so insistent on taking things slowly, would be a little more reserved, so to speak. Long, drawn out foreplay. Not that Beau minded either way.

‘Y’know,’ Beau breathed, heavily, after they’d been kissing on the bed for almost five minutes, clothes still on. ‘I guess there’s something to be said about waiting a while. When it finally does happen, you’ve got so much pent up passion that it’s that much better.’

‘I mean, we can wait a little longer, if you want,’ Yasha said. Judging by the playful curl of her lips, she wasn’t being serious. Beau responded by reaching up to start unzipping Yasha’s dress. Yasha batted her hand away.

‘Gods, Yasha,’ Beau groaned. She let her hands fall beside her torso.

‘That’s better.’

‘This is distinctly unfair,’ Beau said, as Yasha pulled her shirt up over her head. The night air was warm against her skin. ‘I sent you a _lot_ of photos. You already know what I look like under my clothes.’

‘We both know that a photograph is an imperfect substitute,’ Yasha said. She leaned down and pressed a kiss to the peak of Beau’s breast. Not that there was really much of a peak, more of a bump in the road.

‘You are very mean,’ Beau muttered, she let an errant finger brush against the skin of Yasha’s bare thigh.

‘And you are incorrigible,’ Yasha replied, taking Beau’s hand, and pinning it to the bed above her head. With her other hand, she reached down, and undid the belt, and the button of Beau’s pants, all the while pressing more kisses to her breasts. Resigned to her fate, Beau used her free hand to curl around the back of Yasha’s neck, pulling her in close. It was apparently deemed an acceptable use of the hand, because Yasha didn’t comment.

That might have been because she was too busy dipping her fingers beneath the waistband of Beau’s panties, and exploring fervently.  Beau had been soaking wet since...well, probably since not long after dinner ended. Maybe even earlier, thanks to the anticipation of an active sort of evening.

B eau bit her lip, trying not to scream out, as Yasha’s fingers probed a little deeper. Beau was so on edge, so ready for this, that it barely even took five minutes, and the barest touch of her clit before she was screaming. Yasha quickly stifled the screams with an open-mouthed kiss until Beau had come down into a lethargic, relaxed sort of state.

She wasn’t even naked yet.

‘What the fuck, Yasha?’ Beau had to wait several moments before she was able to string a sentence together. ‘Where have you been hiding that?

Yasha stared at her, a little confused. ‘Was it...not good?’

‘What, no, it was amazing. I’m just...I mean, you haven’t...’ Beau stopped suddenly, figuring that maybe it wasn’t the best idea to ask when the last time a widow had had sex.

‘Oh,’ Yasha said, catching on remarkably quickly. ‘Well, I mean, I masturbate a lot.’

Beau couldn’t help it. She laughed. A wave of what she could only describe as “the giggles” washed over her,  and within five seconds, Yasha was laughing too.

‘It’s like riding a bike, I guess,’ Beau said, though, the less said about her own abilities to ride a bike, the better. Her legs hadn’t ached all day, and this was absolutely not the time she wanted them to start. ‘Come here.’ She drew Yasha, still sort of on top of her, forward, and made to pull the dress over Yasha’s head. She could see the tiny goosebumps starting to rise up on Yasha’s skin, even though it was not a cold night.

For half a moment, Beau could have sworn her heart stopped beating. Yasha was wearing a plain black bra, and plain black panties, but, like the dress, her body made them look like they’d cost a thousand gold.  Beau reached her hand behind Yasha’s back, and paused. ‘Is this okay?’

‘Yes,’ Yasha breathed.

They made quick work of their clothes after that; all the effort Beau had put into ironing her pants wasted as they were discarded on a pile in the floor, along with everything else. Beau hooked a foot around Yasha’s and flipped them, Yasha putting up minimal resistance. Not that Beau was entirely against the idea of getting Yasha off from underneath, but for the first time, at least, she wanted to have a little more control.

‘Now, do you need me to hold you down?’ Beau asked, seriously, as though she’d even be able to keep Yasha pinned. Her mount was pretty good, but she’d never tested it out on someone Yasha’s size. As if to demonstrate this, Yasha sat up, and kissed Beau’s forehead, before laying back down.

‘All you had to do was say no,’ Beau grumbled, as she moved lower down Yasha’s body. The center of gravity was all wrong to pin her from this low anyway. Then, she took Yasha by the thighs, and started on what her last three fuck-buddies had sent her flowers for.

She started off slow, working her way up, but even with that first touch of the tongue, Yasha was writhing. Beau felt strong hands grip around the back of her head, pulling her in closer, and the soft moans indicated that she was already hitting the right places. That was Beau’s cue to pick up the pace. She moved her tongue upwards, and shifted her hand so it came to assist.

On another day, for another person, Beau might have taken her time, bringing Yasha back down a few times before going for an explosive finish, but today wasn’t the day for that. Even still, she managed a few more minutes of playful touch before building to a crescendo.

Yasha came in silence, but her whole body seemed to react, arching, and stretching, and clutching Beau’s head as though it was the only thing keeping her anchored.

When Yasha finally let go, Beau crawled back up the bed, and let herself fall into the pillows. Yasha was still breathing heavily, staring at the ceiling.

Beau leaned over to the nightstand, and poured two glasses of water. ‘Here.’ She handed one of the glasses to Yasha, who didn’t take it straight away. Then, as though waking for a reverie, Yasha took the glass and sat up.

‘Everything okay?’ Beau asked, tilting her head a little. Were those tears in Yasha’s eyes?

_Oh, shit_. _Beau did you make someone come so hard that they cried?_

Then she remembered there was another, less good reason why Yasha might have been crying. Given, of course, that it was her first time being with someone since…

Beau put a hand on Yasha’s shoulder. ‘Are you...We don’t have to do anything else, if you’re thinking about...’ She paused, trying to phrase it such a way that sounded like she wasn’t trying to be accusatory. ‘About other things.’

Yasha didn’t answer straight away, but when she did, it was with a smile that seemed almost put upon. ‘No, I am okay. I can keep going.’

‘Let’s have a bit of a breather, first,’ Beau said, downing her glass of water. If Yasha wasn’t feeling it, then they didn’t have to continue. The last thing Beau wanted to do was push Yasha into something she wasn’t ready for.

Yasha took Beau’s hand, and squeezed it. Though no words were exchanged, Beau took the gesture for what she hoped it was, a gesture of reassurance. That things were okay, and would continue to be okay.

Round two never came.

…

The next morning, Bluud brought breakfast.

It hadn’t been part of the deal that they’d made, but Beau appreciated it anyway, and made a mental note to put in a few extra shifts for free. It was worth it, considering all of the things that Bluud and Marion had done for her over the years.

They took their time getting showered and dressed, to the point that it was mid-morning by the time they left, and Marion had just woken up.

‘Did you have a good night?’ she asked, as Beau bent down to give her a kiss goodbye. There was nothing suggestive, or salacious in her voice. For Marion, sex was just another part of life.

‘It was really good,’ Yasha said, before Beau could even think of formulating a response.

‘I’m glad to hear it.’ Marion smiled. ‘If ever you need to spend another night, you need only ask.’

‘Thanks,’ Beau said, seriously. ‘Let me know when you need more the bar, yeah?’

Hand in hand, Beau and Yasha left the Lavish Chateau.

…

It was near noon by the time they made it back to the house, and, predictably, Molly was getting antsy.

‘Who am I supposed to hang out with while you have fun with your girlfriend?’ he grumbled, though he didn’t sound overly worried. Molly, unlike Yasha, was one of those people that somehow managed to make friends wherever he went.

‘What about Caleb?’ Yasha asked, feigning obliviousness. As though she hadn’t been kept well appraised by Jester (and a surprisingly observant Beau) about everything that had been happening.

‘He wants to take things slow,’ Molly sighed. ‘Which I assume means no fucking until the second date.’

Beau grimaced, as she entered the kitchen,  after putting her dirty clothes in the laundry . ‘Taking things slow? What the fuck does that even mean?’ She pulled a bottle of milk from the fridge door, and took a long swig. Yasha bit back a smirk; Beau was talking as though they hadn’t been taking things slowly themselves.  Though, last night had been anything but slow.

‘It means I can’t book the U-Haul until at least six months in.’ Beau rolled her eyes, and put the bottle back in the fridge. ‘Hey, other people drink that too, you know.’ Beau’s eyes rolled even harder.

‘You’re a fucking guest, so shut the hell up.’

Yasha knew both Molly and Beau well enough to know that there was no antagonism behind the argument. Judging by Beau’s grin, and the twinkle in Molly’s eye, she was pretty sure that they both enjoyed the verbal sparring.

‘Why don’t you call him?’ Yasha suggested. Molly stared at her, frowning. She was pretty sure he hadn’t even thought of that. There was a beat of silence. ‘You do have his number, right?’

Molly turned on her, half-exasperated. ‘Of course I have his number. What type of hornbag do you think I am?’

Yasha didn’t even want to touch that question. She knew that Molly of less of a hornbag than he was willing to admit to, but she wasn’t planning on calling him out on it.

Molly left, then, claiming that was going to go to the movies, as though they hadn’t already done that yesterday. Not to mention bowling, in the evening, which she was almost certain that Caleb had also attended. Perhaps things _were_ moving more quickly than Molly was willing to let on. Or slower than he was willing to admit.

Beau and Yasha had a quiet morning planned. Beau didn’t have to go to work until four, so they lazed around the house, watching Netflix. As the credits rolled on the third episode of House Hunters: Vasselheim, Yasha decided to have the conversation that they hadn’t had the previous night.

‘I’m sorry if, uh...I made you feel like I was uncomfortable.’

Beau started. She clearly hadn’t expected to be having the conversation so quickly. ‘You didn’t make me feel that way.’

‘I just...as I told you, Zuala was the only person I’ve ever been with, so being with someone else...’

‘Felt like a betrayal,’ Beau finished.

‘No, no,’ Yasha said, quickly. The last thing she wanted was for Beau to think that Yasha had considered last night a mistake. ‘It just brought up memories is all. I had a very good time, and I do not regret it. Nor do I...nor do I wish for anything to stop it from happening again.’

Beau grinned. ‘You know,’ she said. ‘Jester’s at work, Molly’s out...the neighbors don’t pay any attention to what goes on...I mean, we could go back to my room right now, and have a pretty good time.’

Yasha stood. She held out a hand and pulled Beau to her feet.

How could she resist an offer like that?


	17. Happy Returns

17 –  Happy Returns

The next few days passed a little too quickly for Beau’s liking. She spent most of them either at work, hanging out with Yasha, or knuckling down on the thesis that was beginning to loom over her, as though anyone aside from her advisers really cared about the History of Language Development in South-Western Wildemount. That was without even beginning to think about all the other courses that she’d have to do this semester. In short, her birthday was the last thing she wanted to think about.

She’d never been particularly fond of birthdays growing up. It wasn’t that her parents had ignored them. No, it was worse than that. They always used them to further their own agendas; throwing elaborate birthday parties to which they’d invited all the dickhead children of various important people, forcing Beau into too tight, too frilly, too ridiculous yellow dresses that she always tried to squirm out of. Her mother would sigh at the fact that she’d been burdened with such a disobedient daughter, and remind Beau how lucky she was that she had parents that were forced to love her. Her mother would drink far too much, and her father would drink far too much; she would cry into her fourteenth glass of Kamordah red, and he would start yelling, and Beau would run to her room to avoid having to deal with any of it.

So, yeah.

Not her favorite time of year. 

Ever since she’d lived with Jester, though, the tiefling had made an extraordinary effort to make Beau’s birthdays as fun as possible, given that there was so much to make up for. Last year, she’d sent Beau on a ridiculous scavenger hunt, which had culminated in a Bluud-cooked meal at the  _Lavish Chateau_ . It was one of Beau’s favorite memories since she’d come to live in Nicodranas.

This year, Jester’s mother had booked them a private function room in the fanciest restaurant in Nicodranas. Beau honestly would have been happy with a pub lunch, but she appreciated the gesture. Technically, it wasn’t even her birthday until tomorrow, but this was apparently the only time that everyone had been free. Beau didn’t mind; she much preferred the idea of going hard tonight, and then having a relaxing sort of day on her actual birthday, hangover notwithstanding. 

Jester was working late finishing off a tattoo, and Yasha and Molly had been helping her finish off inventory (at least, that was the excuse they gave, which Beau found incredibly suspicious). Fjord had volunteered to drive Beau, knowing that she did not intend to go light on the alcohol. Thank Ioun the place was BYO, because Beau had a reusable shopping bag that was filled to the brim with booze. On corkage alone, she’d be spending a fortune.

‘So, twenty-five, huh?’ Fjord commented, as he drove the admittedly short distance to the restaurant. Fjord had just turned thirty, so he wasn’t trying to call her old. ‘Big milestone.’

‘Eh,’ Beau said, shrugging. She didn’t want to think about it like that. Age was just a number; a bigger milestone would be finally being able to get back in the ring, or finishing her Masters, or getting a job that didn’t involve telling snotty-nosed kids that they couldn’t take the magazines into the bathroom. None of those milestones were anywhere near to close on the horizon, so at most, Beau could just take things one day at a time. Not the worst way to live life, but definitely not how she wanted to life it forever. Being in a long-term committed relationship was, she supposed, at least a step in the right direction.

The restaurant was a pretty nice one;  _definitely _ not one that Beau had had cause to visit before. She’d dressed in her one nice outfit again, swapping out her button-down for a dark blue v-neck shirt.

Yasha, Molly and Jester were already there, putting the final touches on a large banner that read “Happy Birthday Beau,” and Beau could tell that Jester had had to restrain herself from covering the banner in stylized dicks.

In the center of the room there was a large table with a dozen or so chairs around it, but there was also a large space off to the side, and another table filled with drinks, and snacks, and appetizers.  A few dozen balloons, streamers and other decorations hung from the ceiling.  A large speaker was playing what Beau recognized as Jester’s workout playlist.

‘Holy shit, guys.’ Beau was impressed. She hadn’t even begun to consider believing the lie that Yasha and Molly were helping Jester with inventory, but she hadn’t expected _this_. After all this time, the fact that people cared about her was still a foreign concept.

‘I wanted the sign to say “unpleasant one,” but I got outvoted,’ Molly said, sadly. Beau grinned, and gave him a light punch on the arm. He responded by wrapping an arm around her shoulder, pulling her in, and kissing her on the forehead. ‘Happy birthday.’

‘Thanks, Molly,’ Beau said. She went to hug Jester, and kiss Yasha. Yasha was wearing a simple gray tunic, and leather pants, and looked _really fucking _hot. ‘Thank you _all. _This looks amazing.’

‘Yasha did most of the work,’ Jester admitted. ‘I really _did_ have a tattoo to do.’

‘And I spent most of the time sending dirty messages to Caleb,’ Molly announced. Beau tried not to grimace. She got the distinct impression that the relationship had moved into something physical, and she absolutely did not want any details. Caleb was like a brother to her, and Molly...well, admittedly, he was sort of becoming something vaguely sibling-like as well. Maybe like a distant cousin who only showed up for Winter’s Crest and birthdays, and always smelled like he’d been day-drinking. It was weird; they’d known each other less than a month, and already she hated him like she’d known him all his life.

I t was half an hour before the next guests turned up. Beau spent most of that time getting into a marshmallow throwing game with Jester. Fjord and Yasha watched, amused, while Molly took his phone outside. Beau didn’t ask questions, but immediately went into a handstand, and opened her mouth for Jester to throw a marshmallow into.

When Veth and Yeza arrived (Beau strongly suspecting that she had already had at least a couple of drinks) they immediately got into a competition regarding who could make the most ridiculous catch (‘Oh no,’ Yeza said, in a soft sort of voice). Beau had no idea how Veth, co-proprietor of a pharmacy, had such amazing dexterity, but she always welcomed a little friendly competition. _That_ ended when Dairon arrived, and found both Beau and Veth hanging upside down from the rafters, mouths open.

‘If you fall and break your neck,’ Dairon said, in a voice that was half amused, half chastising, ‘Then I will not be sympathetic.’

Perhaps a little sheepishly, Beau flipped down, and landed heavily on her feet. It did not hurt as much as she would have expected, given the hard floor, and the pins in her legs. Then Veth came crashing down on top of her.

There was a few minutes of dusting each other off, and checking to make sure nothing was broken, before Beau decided to take the edge off with mini-pizzas and beer. Even then, Veth goaded her into a drinking contest, which she gleefully accepted.

Dairon gave a beleaguered sigh, and stood in a corner with her water and her vegetable sticks,  talking to no-one, and simply Watching.

Bit by bit, more people showed up, culminating in Caleb’s arrival just before seven, Molly immediately gluing to his side. Both Caleb and Beau had done some  hard negotiation to get Zeenoth to work tonight.

Dinner was really freaking nice. They made all of Beau’s favorite things, including a mouth-watering chicken parm that she would definitely need to come back for one day. She drank enough that by the time dessert was finished, she felt a little more than lightly buzzed.

When all the dishes had been cleared, Yasha pulled Beau to her feet. ‘There’s something you need to see,’ Yasha said. Beau wasn’t sure whether or not it was her imagination, but there was a twinkle in Yasha’s eye. Yasha pulled her towards the door.

‘Wait, why are we going outside?’

‘To see your present, silly,’ Jester said, as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. Beau didn’t know how to respond to that. The fact that all of her friends had come together to celebrate her birthday was present enough. Why she needed to go outside for her present was another matter altogether; she’d been so distracted by everything else, that she hadn’t seen Fjord sneaking off to go and get something. He was standing by the gutter, next to a very large something wrapped in a big blue bow.

It was the bike.

The bike that she’d seen on one of those random Nicodranas walks with Yasha, with it’s sleek black frame, and its  now  shiny blue finish.

_Her_ bike, she’d taken to calling it in her head, even though she’d known there was no way she’d ever be able to afford it.  In addition to the blue bow, there was a hand-drawn sign that read “Happy Birthday, Beau!” This one did have stylized dicks on it, but that hardly seemed important.

Beau was speechless.

Beyond speechless.

‘How...’ she said, but couldn’t think of the words to finish the thought. Finally, they came. ‘How did you guys _afford_ this?’ She ran a hand along the length of the bike. A shiver ran down her spine.

‘Well, we all chipped in,’ Fjord said. 

‘Who’s we?’ Beau asked, eyes narrowing in suspicion. She loved her friends dearly, but none of them were exactly bringing in the big bucks.

‘Uh...me, Jester, Caleb, Veth and Yeza, Yasha and Molly...Dairon, Caduceus. Yasha took it for a test drive to make sure it ran okay.’

‘You asked my dealer and my coach to chip in on a birthday present?’ Caduceus hadn’t been able to make dinner, as he didn’t have anyone else that could run the cafe. Dairon had stayed for dinner, hadn’t said a word, and had left the moment things were finished. She wasn’t much one for large groups.

‘Well, we told them what we were doing, and they were all too happy to help.’

‘Plus, momma put a whole chunk in,’ Jester added. Beau frowned. ‘Like...most of it.’

‘Why would she do that?’

‘Because that’s what parents do, silly.’ Jester put an arm around Beau’s shoulder. ‘You’re like...pretty much my sister, y’know.’

The words had a strange effect on Beau.  _Sister_ . She’d never been a sister to anyone. Never  _had_ a sister before, either, for that matter. Had never had family that cared. To have all of her friends here, having scraped together their meager funds to do something nice for her. She couldn’t help but stop a tear or two from rolling down her cheek. 

Actually, no, scratch that, she was full on crying. Big, blubbering tears of...joy, she supposed. No-one in her life had ever cared about her this much.

Beside her, Yasha wrapped a large arm around Beau’s shoulders,  and pressed a kiss to her forehead. It meant more than any words could. 

Then,  Beau found herself immediately besieged upon by half a dozen pairs of arms, each clamoring to hug her. Beau wasn’t a huge hugger, but for once, she didn’t shy away from it; she simply stood there, and let the love of her family – of her  _real_ family – envelope her.

‘So, straight to the Bazzoxan Pass then, right?’ Beau said, and there was an uncomfortable sort of silence. ‘Too soon? It’s been like...seven months.’

‘Seven months since you almost _died_,’ Jester said, in a hushed sort of voice. ‘We know how much you miss not being able to ride, but...please be careful.’ There was a sort of sadness in Jester’s voice, and Beau immediately felt like a dick. She had forgotten just how hard her accident had been on Jester.

‘Oh, yeah,’ Veth said. ‘I forgot.’ She handed over a large package that was almost the same size as her. Where she’d been hiding it, Beau had no idea. _Something else? What the fuck, man_.

Beau unwrapped the second present. It was a helmet.

Okay, that was kind of funny. Not that a helmet would have done much to help her, considering she’d been wearing one anyway. Maybe a brain cell would have been more useful.

‘So this is the real reason you stayed sober?’ Beau asked Fjord. He refused to give her the keys, promising that he would drive it very carefully back to the house. ‘To give me a birthday present, and then take it away?’ Fjord rolled his eyes, thankfully already an expert in when she was taking the piss out of him. Hanging around Fjord was the only reason she apparently now used phrases like “taking the piss.”

Instead, it was Jester that drove Beau and Yasha home, and forced them both to drink several large glasses of water before going to bed. Beau had mentally planned a sort of seductive routine, but found herself far too tired, and perhaps a little too buzzed, to follow through.

Instead, she fell backwards into the soft mattress, having just the presence of mind to take off her bra, jacket and pants before falling asleep.

It had been a good day.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Failing at Nanowrimo has kept me busy, so here's a chapter of this instead.


	18. Falling in Love in the Sweat Heart of Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title from Cruise, by Florida Georgia Line. A little bit of fade to black sex in this chapter

18 –  Falling in Love in the Sweat Heart of Summer

The next morning, Yasha woke early. She had not been nearly as drunk as Beau, or even Molly, who thought he had been very sneaky in saying that he didn’t want to throw up all over Jester’s car, and would catch a ride with Caleb instead. Yasha was sitting at the dining room table with a very large glass of water when the front door opened, and Molly walked in, with no shirt and his darkest pair of sunglasses on.

‘Fun night?’

‘Absolutely,’ Molly said, briskly. ‘I rode him like a bull.’ Yasha rolled her eyes. From that alone, she knew that Molly had probably done nothing more than pass out cold in Caleb’s bed, and perhaps have breakfast. Molly tended to be very vocal about things he didn’t do, and very quiet about the ones that he did.

‘There’s breakfast in the fridge,’ Yasha told him. She had been up since before six, and it was now well after eleven. She knew that even on a normal day Beau wasn’t much one for rising early (even if she had to, with the amount of training she was doing).

‘If I eat anything more substantial than dry toast, I am going to barf all over this nice, clean kitchen,’ Molly announced. Yasha frowned. She did not think Jester would be very happy about that. The tiefling had eaten breakfast with Yasha, and then gone into work. She had given very detailed instructions about making sure Beau had plenty of water to drink when she finally woke up.

As if she had heard that thought, a very bleary looking Beau appeared in the doorway, still wearing the clothes she’d come home in the previous night. She grunted something that sounded like it possibly could have been an attempt at “good morning,” and went straight to the pantry for cereal.

Yasha got to her feet. ‘I made breakfast,’ she said. Beau blinked a few times, before seeming to realize that the words had been directed at her.

‘Oh,’ she said. ‘Cool.’ Even still, she stood there, unblinking for several moments before Yasha took pity and led her to the table. She pushed the glass of water into Beau’s hand, and even then, it was a good thirty seconds before Beau seemed to put two and two together, and drink. Yasha pressed a kiss to her head.

‘Happy birthday,’ she said. Beau blinked, as though she’d only just realized that it was her birthday.

‘Thanks,’ Beau managed. Her voice sounded a little rough. Molly came and sat down beside her, but it seemed that not even he had the energy to start ribbing her in his current state.

‘How’re you feeling?’

A long pause. ‘Not too bad.’ Molly smirked, and was still smirking when Yasha set a plate of eggs and toast in front of Beau. Then, the smirk faded.

‘I think I’m gonna go...’ He ran off to the bathroom without finishing his sentence. Yasha could not help but smile. She had been witness to enough of Molly’s hangovers to be nonplussed about the situation.

Beau, according to Jester, was very grumpy for the first few hours, but usually hit a turning point at about two o’clock in the afternoon, when she went and had a nap.

‘Probably making sure she has enough energy for tonight,’ Molly said, winking. ‘You guys better have fun, but don’t get too weird.’

Yasha frowned. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

‘Oh, come on,’ he said, airily. ‘Birthdays are always when people save their really kinky sex requests, because they know their partner’s going to be less likely to say no. Mark my words, your fuckboi’s gonna want to do _dirty_ shit tonight.’ Yasha got the distinct impression that Molly had made a lot of people happy on their birthdays. ‘In fact, let me see if I’ve got anything that you can use for that...’

Molly ran to the guest room, and returned five minutes later with a bag full of random stuff that he thrust in Yasha’s direction. ‘None of it’s been used,’ he said, helpfully. Yasha was mildly horrified at the thought that that was even a possibility. She didn’t even dare look in the bag with Molly there, for fear of his reaction.

‘How much stuff did you _bring_?’ she demanded. She knew that he had brought some prototypes, but this seemed a little beyond prototypes.

‘I have a business to run,’ Molly said, perhaps a little impatiently. ‘Which means occasionally fulfilling a few orders while I’m here.’

‘You’re running a sex toy shop out of Beau and Jester’s house?’ Yasha almost didn’t want to know the answer to that one.

‘No, of course not,’ Molly said, airily. ‘I’m using the Lavish Chateau as the return address. With Marion’s permission, of course. Can you imagine how well my sales will do if it gets out these fuck enhancers are coming from a world-famous brothel?’

Yasha did not have a response to that question, nor did she particularly want to respond. Instead she took the bag, knowing it would be easier than explaining the nuances of why she didn’t want to use any of it.

‘I’ll want feedback!’ Molly called out after her.

Yasha didn’t answer.

…

It wasn’t until just before dinner that Beau started to feel like herself again. She took a very long time to go out to the garage and admire her new bike, even if she felt like she would throw up if she so much as got onto the saddle.

At dinner, she ate lightly, and declined further drinking. One big event a week was enough for her liking. She did, however, indulge in some leftover cake; a slice that looked like it might once have been the letter H.

‘I’m going to bed,’ she told Yasha pointedly, hoping that the significant look she gave was hint enough. Sure enough, not minutes after Beau had shut the door, it opened again, with a very nervous looking Yasha.

Beau took a long sip  from her water  bottle . She wanted to be hydrated, if things were going to go the way she expected them to go.

‘Molly said that people ask for kinky things on their birthday.’ Beau choked on her water.

‘Molly said _what_?’

‘He said that people like to do dirty things, because their partners are less likely to say no.’ 

‘First of all, you’ve been talking to Molly about sex?’ A pause. ‘Second of all, you’ve been talking to Molly about _us_ having sex?’

‘No,’ Yasha said immediately, sounding horrified at the thought. ‘I would not...I don’t take sexual advice from Molly, but he suggested that it’s a, uh...common practice for people to ask for special things on their birthday.’

‘I mean, I wouldn’t know,’ Beau said, with a shrug. ‘I’ve never really been in a relationship on my birthday before. But, y’know, if you want to give me something special, I’m not going to argue.’

‘Well he also gave me a bag of things to use,’ Yasha added, gesturing casually at a bag in the corner of the room.

‘Holy shit, Yash, you should have led with that,’ Beau said. ‘Free sex toys!’ She went and grabbed the bag, dumping it out onto the bed. They both stared at it, silently, for a full minute. Beau could see a lot of things that were made of leather, and included vast amounts of straps. One was a riding crop, and there was something else that looked horrifyingly like a muzzle.

‘I don’t know how to use any of this,’ Yasha said, eventually.

Beau picked up a pair of leather handcuffs. ‘I mean...some of it, I can put two and two together, but like...I get the feeling he thinks our sex life is far more interesting than it actually is.’ 

She wasn’t sure whether she should be more concerned by the fact that he had brought all of this to Nicodranas, or the fact that he thought they would get some use out of it. The fact that he was even thinking about their sex life at all was...it was fucking gross.

A devilish sort of idea began to form in her head. She stripped down to her underwear and bra. ‘I will be back in two minutes.’

‘Beau, wh—’

Molly, as she had suspected, was in the kitchen,  still  working on his laptop. He started as Beau entered, and turned around. 

‘Shouldn’t you be in your bedroom getting railed?’

‘Uh, yeah,’ Beau said. ‘There’s a couple more things we need.’ She grabbed a can of whipped cream from the fridge, and a bunch of bananas from the fruit bowl. ‘You don’t know where the paddling pool is, do you?’ A few days ago, he had filled the paddling pool with ice and water, and lounged around in it all afternoon. A pause. ‘You know what, never mind, we’ll use a bucket.’ And she ran back to her bedroom.

Beau grinned as she heard a confused, ‘What the fuck,’ from Molly, as she was half-way down the hall. Perfect. Anything that was confusing to Molly was fine by her.

Yasha stared as she entered the room. Frowned at the sight of the bananas and the whipped cream. ‘We don’t...we don’t have to use those, do we?’ Yasha asked, nervously.

‘Uh...bananas, no, but the whipped cream could be fun.’ The bananas could be fun, too, but Beau was entirely certain that Yasha wasn’t ready for the suggestion that Beau could have made about the bananas. ‘Y’know, spray it on, lick it off.’ Yasha took the can from Beau’s outstretched hand. She took off the lid, and sprayed a line of it across Beau’s chest.

‘Like this?’

‘Well, that’s the first half.’ Slowly, and a little unsure of herself, Yasha leaned over, and licked the cream off.

‘It tastes salty.’ Yasha frowned.

‘Well, I’ve been sweating,’ Beau said, shrugging. ‘That’s the less fun side, I guess.’

Then, she let Yasha push her down onto the bed, even as another line of whipped cream was sprayed onto her stomach. Yasha was a little bit too enthusiastic, and got some on the sheets.

‘Sorry.’ She kissed Beau’s stomach, leaving lip prints in the cream.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ Beau breathed. ‘Probably time to wash them anyway.’ She maneuvered her hands back to take off her bra. After three failed attempts at getting it unclipped, Yasha took pity on her.

‘As much fun as it is to watch you struggle,’ she said, clearly amused as she carefully undid the hooks, ‘I would much prefer this off rather than on.’

‘You’re telling me.’ Beau chucked the bra across the room, where it hopefully landed somewhere in the vicinity of the hamper.

Yasha positioned herself between Beau’s legs. Beau was a little surprised. Usually, there was way more foreplay than this. ‘What are you doing?’

Yasha smiled. ‘Happy birthday,’ she said.

…

Beau stared at the ceiling. ‘Shit,’ she said.

‘Good shit, or bad shit?’

‘Yasha, sweetie, I don’t scream if it’s bad.’

‘Oh.’ There was a pause. ‘Molly probably heard that.’

‘Yeah.’ There was maybe a little part of Beau that had wanted him to hear. Revenge for being a nosy little shit.

‘I have...something else for you,’ Yasha said. ‘It isn’t much, but...’ she trailed off, got out of the bed to start digging through her pockets. Since her pants were on the floor, this clearly took a bit longer than she had anticipated. Eventually, she withdrew a velvet covered box. Beau’s heart skipped a beat.

Yasha opened the box and withdrew a fine silver chain. At the end of the chain was a jade ring. ‘In Xhorhasian culture, it is customary to give one’s uh...lover a ring on their birthday, to symbolize ongoing commitment. But Jester told me that if I gave you a ring on its own, it could be misinterpreted.’ A pause. ‘I know you are not one for jewelry, but...’ Beau took the chain, and immediately put it around her neck.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she said, sincerely, even as she fingered the chain. A strange feeling overwhelmed her. She’d never really been with a person long enough for them to give her a gift so...meaningful. Even the people she had been with a long time, they were generally more casual sorts of relationships. ‘I uh…I’m not really one for excessive platitudes, but...’ Beau froze. She knew what she wanted to say. She knew what she needed to say. She’d just never had to say it before. Yasha squeezed her hand, and she felt a surge of strength rise up in her. ‘I love you.’

There was a brief, terrifying moment of silence. Yasha pulled Beau in close, letting her head rest against Beau’s. ‘I love you, too,’ she said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thus begins Beau and Molly's game of sex chicken.


	19. Folsen Night Blues

19 – Folsen Night Blues

The days faded into each other, for a little bit. They were brilliant, and blue, with sunshine from dawn until dusk. Beau’s skin turned an even deeper brown from the numerous day trips to the beach, or day trips to Port Damali, and just generally going about the place. Yasha, on the other hand, seemed to burn if she even looked at the sun; not that she didn’t enjoy it. She just had to make sure she slathered herself with sunblock every morning, and wore long sleeves as much as possible.

‘Aren’t you hot?’ Beau would tease her.

‘I’m always hot,’ Yasha would reply, in that deadpan sort of voice, with just the barest hint of a smile to indicate that she was joking.

Little by little, Beau’s body was recovering. It was at nowhere near the pace she would have liked, a fact which frustrated her to no end.

Almost every morning, she was at the gym, lifting the miniscule weights that she was allowed.

Normally, Beau was more of an expert in moving her own body weight around, as opposed to someone like Jester, who could squat a pickup truck. Dairon had her doing a zillion squats a day, just to help strengthen the muscles.

‘I’m glad to see you’ve stopped taking silly risks,’ Dairon commented, as they finished up for the morning. It was barely nine, and Beau was already grumpy from lack of coffee and lack of bacon.

The “silly risks” Dairon was referring to was the unsanctioned fights that Beau had participated in early on in her recovery, the last of them being right before Yasha had arrived.

‘Like I said, won’t happen again.’ Beau grimaced slightly. “Won’t happen again” because she’d taken a brutal punch to the face and been unconscious for almost four minutes, and she really couldn’t afford the hospital bills. Not to mention the time off work.

That said, though, she hadn’t been in any under the table fights since Yasha had come to Nicodranas. It was something about having someone there to do things with that made her feel a little less stir-crazy, even if she couldn’t fight yet. Some days, she got a different kind of workout that ended in a different kind of pain.

She hobbled through the front door twenty minutes later, and almost immediately tripped on the landing. ‘Fuck!’ Footsteps came running from the kitchen, and Beau felt a wave of embarrassment wash over her. ‘I’m fine, I’m fine,’ she said, ignoring Yasha’s hand to help her up off the floor. ‘I just tripped.’ She shouldn’t have tripped, that was the main thing.

‘You do not seem like the sort of person that just trips,’ Yasha commented. She was forgetting, Beau knew, the time that Beau had wiped out on her motorcycle and almost died. That was like tripping at high speed.

‘Would you believe I used to be really fucking clumsy?’ Beau asked. Yasha stared at her, and Beau grinned. It was admittedly a little hard to believe. ‘I mean, I still am, sometimes, but when I was a kid, it was really bad. Was always knocking things over, tripping over shit...One time I knocked over a priceless vase of my mom’s, and I got whooped so hard I couldn’t sit for a week.’

Beau had intended as a segue to what she was really trying to say, but the concern on Yasha’s face was so evident that Beau had to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. ‘Long time ago,’ she said, but the look did not fade. ‘Anyway, one summer I got caught doing the usual teen things; you know, doing drugs, shoplifting, being a general nuisance. They gave me a choice between going to juvie and going to one of those stupid camps for troubled teens. It ended up being pretty fun. We had to do all those dumb team-building things, like the human knot, and problem solving, and whatever, but they had like...rock climbing, and mountain biking, and a few martial arts things. Super fun stuff. Getting our anger out in healthy ways, y’know. I’d say, “put me straight,” but I think we both know how that worked out. Got me into some stuff that I never would have done otherwise.’

She shrugged.

‘Anyway, I still trip over shit sometimes, but and least now I can turn it into a cool front flip.’ She dropped her bag, vaulted into a handstand, and, just for fun, did a few push-ups. When she dismounted, she knocked a bowl of pot purri from the hall table.

‘That is very impressive,’ Yasha said, a smile twitching on her lips. ‘That small bowl of dried flowers was asking for it.’ Beau rolled her eyes, but took the comment for what it was. She was getting a little better at the whole “not taking shit personally” thing, but it was a long road.

Fjord, Molly and Jester were in the kitchen. Beau raised an eyebrow. She was pretty sure Fjord hadn’t spent the night, which meant he had come over early in the morning, which really, was just as telling. The good news was, judging by the smell, he was making his famous Port Damali style pancakes.

There was nothing altogether different about them (they came from the same packet mix as when any of the rest of them made pancakes) only Fjord mixed in rum with the maple syrup, so it was like getting mimosas without having to spend a fortune on champagne.

He gave a spatula salute when Beau and Yasha walked in. Jester, sitting with a glass of milk, and a serving of what looked like regular Nicodranas-style pancakes gave them a wink. As though they would have had time to do anything in the hallway.

‘I was just telling Jester,’ Fjord told them, as Beau poured herself a large glass of orange juice. ‘Reani, Keg and Cali had to cancel for tomorrow, so we may need to forfeit.’

‘Fuck,’ Beau muttered. It was the first game of the season. Having to forfeit would fucking _suck_. She looked at Yasha, then and Mollymauk. ‘Do you guys like softball?’

Yasha frowned. ‘What is softball?’

‘What kind of lesbian _are_ you?’ Jester asked, astounded, before Beau could say anything.

‘The kind that pleasures women,’ Yasha said, a little confused, as though it was a trick question. Beau almost choked on her orange juice.

‘They call it something else in Xhorhas,’ Molly said, drizzling an ungodly amount of rum-laden maple syrup over his pancakes. ‘You ever been hit in the face with a softball? Those things aren’t soft.’ He made a guttural sort of noise that Beau took a few moments to realize was Xhorhasian. She knew a few words in Xhorhasian, of course (mostly swear words, and the sorts of things Yasha said when she was trying to be filthy), but she couldn’t quite manage the throat sounds that the language was built on.

Yasha grimaced slightly. ‘I have not played it before, but I don’t think I would like it much. I am not…’ She paused to consider her words. ‘I am not very good at team sports.’

‘Do you like drinking?’

Yasha frowned. ‘Yes?’

‘Then you’ll like it the way we play it.’

…

There wasn’t anything approaching a softball stadium in Nicodranas, so they played in one of the larger parks that was of roughly the right size. A short, chain-link fence bordered the outfield, and instead of dugouts they had a patch of blanketed grass and a large cooler.

Usually, Beau played shortstop. It was the position she’d played in high school, and it made good use of her running speed. Now, though, while she was still recovering from the bike accident, she had been shunted off to third base, and Veth would cover for her. Fjord, their usual third-baseman, was off in the outfield.

Beau couldn’t help but feel a little disheartened at that. If she couldn’t play a game of fucking pick-up softball, then she was never going to get back into the ring. Hell, she even had to use a runner, which was just sad.

‘Pity Keg’s not here,’ Fjord commented. ‘Since we’re playing the Iron Shepherds.’ It was such a needlessly antagonistic name for a casual league softball team that Beau couldn’t help but laugh. They had even been too much for Keg, who had switched sides in a confrontation that had been very dramatic for the world of Folsen night sports leagues. They were still a person down, and Beau had given Dairon a call to see if they would be interested, but the elf hadn’t even let Beau get all the words out of her mouth before saying a curt, “No.”

The Iron Shepherd’s captain (which was more a formality than anything else) was an enormous giant by the name of Lorenzo. Beau thought it was pretty unfair that they had a fucking _giant_ on their team, but they had Jester, so it almost evened out. Jester was a menace on the pitcher’s mound, and in the batter’s box. She was also so good at slinging insults that, more than once, she’d been ejected. Given that it was a pick-up game with far laxer rules than a real league, Jester considered that something to be proud of. Once, she’d even gone and spray-painted dicks on the umpire’s car. _That_ had almost gotten them a season long ban.

Yasha stared at the bat in her hands. She held it a bit like a cricket bat. Beau helped correct her grip, and tried to ignore the jeers from that asshole, Protto.

‘Okay, Jester’s going to do a few warmup pitches for you,’ Beau told Yasha, once they’d fixed up the grip. ‘All you have to do is run to first base. That’s that one there.’

‘I thought the goal was to get to the last base,’ Yasha said. ‘Fourth base.’

‘Get home,’ Beau said, gently correcting. ‘And yeah, that is the goal, but if you can only get to first, then that’s fine too.’ Yasha frowned, as though she didn’t see the point in doing less than you were able.

Beau took a few steps back, and watched as Jester made a windmill swing with her arms.

_Crack_.

The ball sailed in a high arc over the diamond, over the outfield, over the fence…

‘Was that okay?’ Yasha asked. ‘It was not in the middle.’ She was still holding the bat.

Fjord clapped her on the shoulder. ‘You’ll do,’ he said.

Even with a couple of ringers, it was a close game. Yasha played as catcher to Jester’s pitcher (“Just stand there, catch the ball if they throw it to you, and do not let anyone stand on that base”) and as a result, three of the Iron Shepherds ended up with a concussion.

‘It’s their fault they tried to barrel into her,’ Jester argued with the umpire, hoping he might forget that Yasha had tackled one of them into the backstop. It had been fucking hilarious to watch, but Beau felt slightly guilty that she had maybe forgotten to explain the “no tackling” rule.

It had been a mistake to put Molly in center field. Not because he wasn’t any good (he was actually way better than Beau had expected) but because he kept wandering over to talk to Caleb in left field. Caleb, who only showed up as a favor to Veth and Beau, was all too happy for the distraction. That had lost them a couple of easy outs, until Fjord swapped with the disgruntled Molly.

Beau managed a couple of decent hits, a couple of real stinkers, and, several beers in, one where she almost whacked herself in the face with a bat. But the score was the least important part of the game. The most important part of the game was that Beau got to watch Yasha take off her jacket and flex her muscles before smashing the ball over the fence, four innings in a row.

That, more than anything else, had been their saving grace.

As the most sober of all of them, Caduceus and Jester were tasked with getting the rest of them home. Beau strongly suspected that, while Caduceus hadn’t drunk any alcohol, he was pretty much on a permanent high of other sorts, but still seemed to navigate the world without causing too much trouble.

Beau, Molly and Yasha piled into the back of Jester’s car, Fjord sitting in the front. It wasn’t a big car, and consequently, Beau ended up half sitting in Yasha’s lap. Not that she was complaining. After ten minutes of getting jostled around by Jester’s insane driving, she kind of just leaned back into Yasha’s chest.

‘I had fun tonight,’ Yasha murmured into her ear.

‘Yeah? Wanna play again next week? I think Reani’s going back to Uthordurn soon, so we’ll need a full-time catcher.’

‘Will I get to tackle people again?’ Beau was pretty sure Yasha was joking.

She really hoped that Yasha was joking.


	20. Tattoos and Tentacles

20 – Tattoos and Tentacles

Jester was sitting cross-legged on the couch when Molly came down for breakfast. Since it was eleven o’clock, “breakfast” was perhaps a generous term, but brunch wasn’t the sort of thing you were allowed to have alone.

‘Jester!’ Molly called out from the kitchen. ‘Do we have anything that I don’t have to use a gas stove for?’

Jester bounded into the kitchen, sketchbook under her arm. ‘Can you keep a secret?’ she asked, conspiratorially. Molly stared at her.

‘My dear, I am made of nothing _but_ secrets. I’m so good at keeping secrets I don’t even know my own past.’

Jester gave a mischievous grin, before running to her room. She returned a minute later with several large boxes of Pop Tarts. ‘Shelf stable pastries!’ she announced. ‘I used to keep bear claws in there, but Beau got upset about all the ants.’

‘Some people just aren’t visionaries.’ Molly took the foil-wrapped packet that Jester passed him, and tore it open. It would have taken perhaps a minute to toast them, but he just didn’t have time for that. ‘So, what’re you drawing?’ he nodded towards the sketchbook. Jester’s eyes lit up.

‘I’ve been working on some new tattoo designs.’ The eyes cast a gaze over Molly’s neck, and down along his shoulder. Both were covered in tattoos. ‘Omigod, Molly! I could give you a tattoo!’

Molly grinned. He _had_ been thinking of checking out the Nicodranas ink scene. Even if he didn’t get one from Jester, she would no doubt be able to point him in the right direction. ‘Show me what you’ve got,’ he said.

Jester flipped open the sketchbook, and Molly immediately noticed just how phallic the designs were. ‘You know, I never thought I’d meet someone who drew more dicks than I did, and I make dicks for a living.’

‘Well, I do too,’ Jester said, reasonably. The eyes, which were still lit up, somehow became even wider. ‘Molly, I have an amazing idea! You can help me design a tattoo, and I can help you design a sex toy.’

Molly almost choked on his Pop Tart. His next words, he spluttered through crumbs and sugary chocolate filling. ‘That is the greatest fucking idea I’ve ever heard,’ he said.

…

Beau and Yasha got home a little after one. They had been hiking or rock climbing or something to do with the outdoors somewhere or other; Molly vaguely recalled a knock on his door at the ungodly hour of nine a.m., asking if he wanted to come. They both looked sweaty, tired, and more than a little dirty, and Molly was confident in his decision to grumble incoherently and roll over in his sleep.

‘What are you two conspiring about?’ Beau took a very long swig from her water bottle.

‘Look at this tattoo I’m giving Molly later!’ Jester thrust her sketchbook under Beau’s nose. Compared to some of the other tattoos Molly had seen in the sketchbook, it was a pretty tame one. Hardly anything penis-related at all. It was a pair of crossed scimitars surrounded by stars and sitting atop a crescent moon (and, okay, maybe the sword pommels were both shaped a bit suspiciously).

‘That looks dope as fuck.’

‘Now, look at this _other_ thing we designed.’ Molly found the right page in his own sketchbook. ‘We call this one The Punisher,’ Molly said. He passed Beau the finished sketch, watching her eyes carefully as he did. She recoiled in horror, looking back and forth between Molly and Jester. The hours he had spent drawing hundreds of tiny barbs had been worth it for that alone. ‘Please tell me that’s not based on tiefling anatomy.’ She gave a hopeful look towards Jester, who shrugged.

‘Well I don’t know, I don’t have a dick. I just like drawing them.’ Beau looked towards Molly, who kept his face carefully blank.

‘You’ll never know,’ he said, cheerfully. Exactly what it was she would never know, he decided to leave up to her imagination. Payback for the banana incident.

Yasha rolled her eyes, but said nothing. Apparently, by this point, she was far too used to the casually antagonistic banter between Beau and Molly to think that there was anything to worry about.

‘So, what.’ Beau handed the sketch book back to Jester. ‘You gonna use that on someone in particular?’

Jester’s eyes widened in mild horror. ‘Do you think he wants that?’ she asked, in a loud stage whisper. ‘I mean…we’ve kissed, but he still hasn’t asked me out.’

‘Why don’t you ask him?’ Molly was surprised that it was Yasha who asked the question.

‘Oh.’ Jester seemed surprised, as though the option hadn’t even occurred to her. ‘I mean, _technically_ I guess I could…’ Her expression turned thoughtful. ‘That’s a really good idea, Yasha, thank-you.’

‘I mean, I’ve told you that a hundred times,’ Beau said, in a barely audible grumble. She shook her head. ‘Anyway, I’m gonna go have a shower.’ She looked Molly directly in the eye. ‘Yasha, you want to come join me?’

Yasha did not seem to realize what was happening. ‘Yeees,’ she said, looking between Beau and Molly. ‘That would be nice.’

Molly pretended to look at the sketchbook again. ‘You know, Jester, I think if we really want this one to be accurate, it needs more tentacles.’ Beau gave him the finger.

‘Hey Yasha, I’m gonna show you some really fun things to do with that shower head.’

She pulled Yasha down the hallway towards the bathroom.

‘Do you think they’re actually gonna fuck in the shower?’ Molly asked, musingly.

Busy drawing tentacles, Jester didn’t answer.


End file.
